Little Known Ways to Satisfaction
by oseana
Summary: Whoever said being a teenager was easy? AxH.
1. Chapter One

**Little Known Ways to Satisfaction - Chapter One**

Helga wasn't sure what she hated more: being forced to sit and listen to stories about her sister, Olga, or being forced to sit and listen to stories about her. Either way, she absolutely despised it.

Thanksgiving was always her most hated time of the year. It meant relatives she couldn't stand staying at her house for a week. It meant Miriam cooking something charred in a poor attempt to make stuffing. It meant Bob was even more irritating because his favorite television programs start incorporating special prizes given the holiday. Worst of all, it meant sitting at a table and listening to whatever criticisms her aunts and uncles decide to give her.

"Really, Helga," Her Aunt Muriel started, "you really should start eating more. You're just about as skinny as a twig!"

"I agree, Helga, dear," Her older cousin Jane interjected, "When your sister was your age, she was absolutely stunning! She even had modeling contracts from all the magazines."

Helga's eyes rolled at the sound of her sister's name.

"That's what I always tell the girl! She never listens to me. Unlike her sister, this one is about as stubborn as a mule," Bob agreed boisterously with chunks of turkey in his mouth as he spoke.

"Oh, Bob, stop it," Miriam spoke up, "Helga's only thirteen. When puberty kicks in-"

"Sixteen, Miriam, and I'd rather not start that conversation, please," Helga said, slumping in her seat in embarrassment.

"Helga, you should really show some respect for your parents. What kind of thirteen year old calls her mother by the first name? Do you not teach her anything, Bob?" Uncle Philip asked.

"Stubborn as a mule, I say!" Bob yelled, this time showering the table with chunks of food. "It's too bad Olga had to stay in Africa for Thanksgiving. Now, _that_ daughter knows how to listen!"

The conversation slowly transitioned into Olga's recent accomplishments in Africa. Something about her designing a clean water system that saved some village. Helga didn't know. She zoned out, picking at her food in disinterest. Some of her younger cousins were play-fighting, and the older ones were on their phones. She couldn't help but feel so out of place in a table full of people that looked like her. Eventually, she decided to sneak away from the table and went to her room. She opened up her desk drawer and started writing.

 _"Football Head,_

 _How are you doing? It's Thanksgiving. It's a little weird not having you around this year. It's getting really cold, but I guess it doesn't really matter to you because it's Spring over there. And it's warm all year. I hope you're having fun spending time with your parents and the Green Eyes tribe._

 _Do you remember that one year we spent walking around Hillwood? I was upset because my family was being obnoxious (not much has changed), and you were kinda bummed out because you didn't like that your Grandma thought it was Fourth of July and made you eat grilled hotdogs? That was funny. Even when you were upset, you still wanted to look on the bright side and make me feel better._

 _That Thanksgiving, we decided to crash Mr. Simmon's Thanksgiving with his family. And then blah, blah, blah, at the end of the day, we realized that it didn't matter that our families weren't normal. That was a really sappy year now that I think about it._

 _Anyway, I hope you're doing well. It wouldn't kill you to visit once in a while._

 _Helga"_

Helga folded the letter and placed it neatly in an envelope, addressing it accordingly. She took out a shoebox underneath her desk and opening it, revealing a myriad of similar-looking envelopes. She placed the letter neatly in the row of letters, covering it up with the lid and returning it back to her desk.

Reflecting back on her adventures with Arnold, Helga couldn't help but feel nostalgic. She missed the boy dearly, but she felt nervous at the thought of actually communicating with him. So, instead of facing her feelings head on, she writes to him without actually writing to him. She decided to take a walk, grabbing her coat from the closet.

Sneaking past her family, Helga slipped through the halls to the front door. The cold air outside was refreshing. The few trees in Hillwood had their leaves turned orange, and the smell of pumpkin and cranberry stuffing wafted through the neighborhood.

She walked towards the old river, watching the third version of the replica of the Mayflower. After watching the first replica get destroyed, the mayor sanctioned a second version that then got destroyed after a pigeon flew through one of the sails and destroyed the leech, crashing it once more into the bridge. Again, the mayor sanctioned another replica, which hopefully, won't fail.

Kicking a stone into the river, Helga sat on the dock and took out her locket, eleven-year-old Arnold's sleepy grin greeting her. She felt her heart flutter, but a rush of sadness waved through her.

"Oh, Arnold, it has been years since my eyes have laid upon your glorious oblong-shaped head. How I wish to lay my arms around you once again!" She sighed. "One day our paths will cross once more and then we shall never be without one another again."

"Really now?"

Helga's heart stopped. She hastily stuffed the locket back into her coat pocket. Turning around, she saw someone she had never thought she would see so abruptly.

"Arnold," she said with her mouth agape.

"Helga," he replied, smiling the same sleepy way he always had.

"When did- How did- What-"

"My parents and I decided to come home for Thanksgiving this year," he said, rubbing his neck, excited to see a familiar face. "How have you been doing?"

Helga, with a plethora of things she wanted to say to him, could only let out a pathetic noise.

"Listen, I really missed you, Helga. I want to talk to you about-"

"Wow, Football Head, slow down. Wow," she interrupted, purposefully cutting him off, knowing what he wanted to talk about.

"Oh, sorry," he blushed. "It's just that I haven't seen you in a while."

"Geez, it's your first Thanksgiving back and you ditch your family? I bet your gramps and gran must be missing you a lot." Helga said, fidgeting, desperately praying that she didn't sound as pitiful as she felt.

"Nah, they understand. They're still cooking the hamburgers, so, I have a while." He answered. "What about you? Bob and Miriam still bothering you?"

Helga shook her head. "Not really. I just wanted to get some fresh air is all."

Arnold made his way towards her and sat next to her. She couldn't help but notice how much he had changed. He was much taller, much fuller than when they were younger. His blue cap was nowhere to be found and his voice, _oh God his voice_ , had deepened so much. His hair was still the same unruly blond from when they were younger, but he was much tanner, and obvious result of constantly being under the sun. She couldn't help but feel self-conscious of her appearance. He had grown more attractive over the years, and she could only hope the same applied to her.

"Helga, how come you never answered any of my letters?" He asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Helga didn't answer and nervously tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I sent you so many. Every birthday, every Christmas; no reply from you. What happened?" He asked again.

"Arnold-"

"I don't get it. In San Lorenzo, you told me you loved me, but then again we _were_ only kids," he said, turning to her. "Did you stop liking me?"

Helga's eyes widened and her face flushed. "Arnold, you have to understand. We were eleven. I didn't see you anymore. You didn't see me. We just grew apart. Surely, you must have made a life for yourself over there without me... right?"

Arnold stared at her for the longest time before sighing. "I suppose so."

Helga couldn't help but feel her heart drop in disappointment. But, it was expected. This was the real world.

"But, you know, I never stopped thinking about you. Or everyone for that matter." He said to her.

Helga didn't say anything and watched the sun set in the horizon. She forced herself to imagine that he wasn't there. Otherwise, she would have truly lost her mind. She felt a warm object cover her hand, and she realized that it was his own. He laced his fingers through hers, and she couldn't help but blush.

She retracted her hand from his and got up, leaving Arnold with a sad look on his face.

"I'm sorry for not replying to any of your letters, Arnold. I'll... see you around. Have fun during your stay here." Helga muttered as she walked away.

"Okay, Helga. Thanks," Arnold answered dejectedly.

* * *

She was mad. And sad. And angry. And sullen. And furious. And happy.

She didn't even know why. He was here. Finally, after years and years of being Arnold-less, here he is in the flesh, standing in front of her. She should be elated, but a part of her was completely outraged. How dare he come prancing around, pretending that he didn't just leave Hillwood for five years? How dare he hold her hand and ask if she still loved him? Of course she still did, but that didn't mean she wanted to.

Pacing back and forth in her bedroom, Helga grit her teeth and clenched her fists, thinking about the boy. It's not like she never tried to like anyone else. She's dated some. She hasn't hit anyone since San Lorenzo, but most guys in her neighborhood had a hard time picturing her as anything else that the one bully with the unibrow so most avoided her regarding romantic matters. Most of the guys she's dated have been strangers from other schools, or people who have just moved to their high school who had no idea what kind of person she was. But none of them came close to the blond-haired boy.

Stopping to look in her vanity, she examined her face. She wasn't the most attractive girl in the world, but she wasn't the ugliest. She didn't like using makeup except for a little mascara and sometimes lipgloss. It had been long since she had a unibrow - not after Olga came home one day and forced her to sit and have every hair on her body tweezed and waxed. She shuddered at remembering that painful day three years ago. Her hair had grown longer, and it had been difficult to keep them in pigtails, so she lazily opted to leave it down on most days. Her legs were made of almost no fat, being that she competed on her school's basketball and track teams. She didn't really have the most curvaceous body in the world, but she had some, she supposed.

"Oh, criminy," she exasperated, throwing herself on her bed. She thought about how Arnold looked and couldn't help but blush at how attractive he had become.

Hearing a knock on her door, Helga mumbled a "come in," not moving her position.

"Helga, darling, Olga's on the phone, and she would like to speak to you," Miriam said, holding up the house phone.

"Tell her I don't want to talk to her," Helga groaned, but before she could oppose, the phone was already to her ear.

"Hello, Helga, my dear, sweet baby sister!" She heard Olga's overly optimistic voice.

"Hello, Olga," she answered flatly.

"How's your Thanksgiving, Baby Sister? Mine is absolutely swell! There's this little boy named Imani, and he-"

"Uhuh, yeah," Helga muttered as her sister drowned on and on about her adventures.

"-and they don't even have any books! Can you imagine? Anyway, tell me about your Thanksgiving, Helga!" Olga asked happily.

"Great, Olga, just amazing," Helga answered dismissively.

"Oh, come on, Baby Sister, tell me about what's going on! How's school?"

"Great."

"And work?"

"Amazing."

"How about your friends?"

"Happy."

"Well, what about that boy you had a crush on? What was his name? Armand? I heard he was coming back from San Lorenzo."

This caught Helga's interest. "How did you know about that?"

"It was on your friend Gerald's Facebook page and then Phoebe shared it on her feed," Olga answered, elated that she was finally getting a proper response from her sister.

Helga groaned. It had been years since she deleted her Facebook account during an anti-social media phase. Now, she was really regretting that decision.

"Well, how is he, Helga? Did your heart flutter? Any old feelings resurface? Tell me!" Olga asked excitedly.

"No, Olga, this is the real world remember? Those things don't happen in the real world," Helga lied, knowing full well that Olga had hit her inner conflict dead on.

"Oh, well, then, have you seen him yet?" Olga asked, trying to further the question.

"Yes," Helga groaned, not really wanting to talk about Arnold.

"How is he?"

"Fine."

"Well, I remember how you used to write your little poems about him. You even made shrines and-"

"Yes, Olga, and I'm sorry but I have to go. Miriam, Olga wants to talk to you!" Helga yelled for her mother.

"Oh, okay then, Helga. I'll talk to-" Miriam came in, and Helga tossed the phone to her before finishing listening to Olga's goodbye.

Closing the door, Miriam started to babble on about the turkey stuffing or whatever.

Helga sighed once more.

 _"Good God, Football Head,"_ she thought, _"you've been back one day and you've already spun my world upside down."_

* * *

Arnold wasn't sure what he felt when he saw Helga on the dock. Heck, he wasn't even sure if it was Helga in the first place. The only way found out was by eavesdropping on her monologue about him.

But that only left him confused. It didn't make any sense. If she had been talking about him, _thinking_ about him, then why did she act so aloof when he approached her? Why wasn't she as excited as he was when he saw her again?

Sighing, Arnold stared at his reflection. Hillwood itself hadn't changed much during the time he was gone. Still smogged, still the city. In the jungle, the sky was lit up by the infinite amount of stars in the sky. In Hillwood, the lights from all the buildings made the city glow in the dark. The people, however, were far from the children he had left years ago.

Gerald had become a strapping young man, a couple of inches taller than him. The boy had gotten into a hardcore workout phase that made him exercise before, after, and during school. To Arnold's surprise, Gerald had started dating Phoebe Heyerdahl the year they were supposed to be freshmen. Phoebe herself had changed, too. She was still very smart and put studies as her priority, but she had also become very pretty. Rhonda and everyone had all grown up. It was as if he was stuck in a time hole for years and then coming back to seeing all his friends as mini-adults.

And Helga. Oh, Helga. In Arnold's eyes, she had become drop-dead gorgeous. She had legs that seemed to go on forever, and such bright eyes. No longer was her unibrow existent, nor was her pink bow. She wore makeup and actually brushed her hair. Arnold couldn't help but miss it. It hadn't really mattered to him what she looked like because Helga was still Helga, but a part of him still longed to see her tomboyish appearance from when they were eleven - the way she looked when he first fell for her.

He couldn't help but flush as he remembered the feeling of her hand in his. Rubbing it, his hand still retained the feeling of how cold her hands were. They were small compared to his. He thought she might still like him, but he supposed five years is a long time; enough to get over someone. He wondered why he wasn't lucky enough to be blessed with being able to.

Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, he got up from the dock. His family was probably done setting up for their Fourth of July Thanksgiving. Dejectedly, he started to walk towards the boarding house. Passing through the city, he felt nostalgia wave through him as he remembered childhood adventures. Each store he passed reminded him of something he and his friends had done. The flower shop where he and Gerald worked at, PS 118, Mr. Simmon's house, Helga's dad's beeper store (which now sold phones in keeping with changing technologies).

He reached the brick house sullenly. When he opened the door, he was greeted with a wave of warm welcomes and hellos. He felt better.

His grandparents were in the living room. They were getting older, weaker, but they still had the same fire and love they had when he was younger. His grandpa was reading the paper and his grandmother was in the chair next to him yelling strange things while wearing a George Washington costume. Some of the boarders were in the kitchen, taking things up to the roof. He supposed his parents were still grilling the food somewhere.

"Hey, Arnold! Oh, wow, it is still very strange to see you so tall," Oskar said as he carried paper plates up the stairs.

 _"And it's strange seeing you actually do something,"_ Arnold thought as he chuckled to the man.

A couple of months after he left, Suzie had gotten pregnant. Least to say, Oskar was very disinterested. That is, until Suzie had gotten sick nearing full-term while trying to work three jobs to prepare for the baby, nearly killing it and herself. Afterwards, Oskar had taken responsibility, realizing how easily his family could disappear. It wasn't just the Kokoshka's that changed. Mr. Hyuhn was now a grandfather to two little girls that were now running around the house. Mr. Potts had finally gotten married to a nice librarian, surprising given his personality.

"Hey, Short man," his grandpa greeted, "how was your walk?"

"Mr. Jefferson, I see you have returned from your voyage!" Gertie yelled out.

"Hi, Grandpa. Hi, Grandma. It was great. I really missed Hillwood." Arnold answered respectfully.

"Ain't really changed, Old Hillwood, now has it?" His grandpa said.

"Not really, Grandpa," he answered. "I'll be in my room if you guys need me, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Jefferson!"

Climbing up the stairs, he greeted more boarders as they went up and down the stairs. He entered his room and jumped on his bed, exhausted from the day.

Helga...

His phone vibrated again. He took it out of his pocket and saw that it was Gerald who had messaged him earlier and currently.

 _"Dude, wya? i just finished the gym. you wanna play some ball before dinner?"_ The first text read.

 _"Bruh. reply."_

Arnold started to text. _"Yeah sure. at the park?"_

 _"Ye. see you in ten."_

Arnold sat up on his bed and wiped his face. He changed into workout clothes, bid goodbye to his grandparents, and went to the park. Gerald was there, waiting with a basketball between his hands.

"Arnold, my man," Gerald said, motioning him to do their secret handshake.

Arnold grinned and pursued their tradition. "What's up?"

"Nothin' really. Same old, same old. How was seeing Helga?" Gerald asked, throwing the ball in the air.

"Not that well. And how did you know I saw her?" Arnold asked, catching it.

"You looked bummed as hell," Gerald answered, trying to steal the ball. "It was pretty obvious that you saw her again. Old Pataki really changed, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, she has..." Arnold trailed, blocking Gerald's advances. "Gerald, does she have a boyfriend?"

"Um, not that I know of," Gerald said, pausing to think. "Why? She say som'in?"

"Not really. It's just she's so... y'know, and I wouldn't be surprised if the reason why she didn't want to see me was because she was already seeing someone else," Arnold answered, pausing, too.

"Man, you gotta get over her," Gerald said, taking advantage and stealing the ball. "It's been five years. You need to get yourself a girl."

"I have, Gerald," Arnold replied, trying to take the ball back. "At least, I've tried before. It's just that Helga's the one, you know?"

"Arnold, you're sixteen years old. The last time you were in a relationship with her was when we were eleven. How are you so sure that she's the one?" Gerald asked, shooting, successfully making it in.

"I just know it, Gerald. Do you think that Phoebe's the one?" Arnold asked comparatively.

"Arnold, Phoebe and I have been together for three years. The longest relationship I've ever had aside from this is with my mother. If I don't marry this girl, I don't think I'm gonna marry anyone," Gerald answered.

Arnold couldn't help but smile at the sound of his best friend gushing over the one he loved. Gerald really matured. In a way, Arnold was jealous; he wished he could love someone like that.

"Don't worry, Arnold," Gerald said, throwing back the ball to him. "If it's meant to be, she'll come around."

"I hope so."

 _"My God, I hope so."_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

CAN WE PLEASE JUST TALK ABOUT HOW THE JUNGLE MOVIE IS COMING OUT IN TWO WEEKS. OMG I'M FREAKING TF OUT SOMEONE SEND HELP BC IM DYING FROM EXCITEMENT. AND CRAIG SAID THAT THEY MIGHT EVEN RESTART THE SERIES; OR EVEN BETTER START "THE PATAKIS" ASKDGJOS.

On a serious note, I absolutely love Hey Arnold! This show was my shit when I was younger. I read more than I write, but I hope you stick around to find out what else I have in store for them.

Tell me: What do you think is gonna happen in The Jungle Movie? Leave your answers in the review section and we can bond!

Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!

-G


	2. Chapter Two

**Little Known Ways to Happiness - Chapter Two**

 _A plethora of mosquitoes and bugs started to bite Arnold's arms. The air was moist, and his brow was dewy with sweat. The leaves were itching his legs, and the humidity made the air thick and hard to breathe in. In any other time, Arnold would have complained and probably tried his best to get out of the situation as fast as he could. In any other time, he would have itched his calves and wiped off his sweat. In any other time, he would have sat down against a tree and probably have taken a nap, drinking lemonade his grandmother made. Unfortunately, this wasn't any other time. He wasn't in Hillwood but in the jungles of San Lorenzo. He was hot and irate, and worst of all, he was alone with a very emotional Helga Pataki._

 _"You- what did you say?" Arnold stuttered._

 _"Oh, boy, are you deaf now," Helga exasperated, flushed with embarrassment. "I said, I'm in love with you, Football Head."_

 _"But you said- At the FTi tower, you said-"_

 _"I know what I said before, Arnold, and I'm telling you this now," she said as she took a deep breath. "I really, really like you."_

 _"But why?" He asked. "Why now?"_

 _"Well- I- Well, I don't know if this is the last time I'll ever see you again," Helga answered sadly, looking down at her shoes._

 _"Helga, I'm sorry but-" Arnold started._

 _"Yeah, yeah. I know," she said, smiling sadly with her eyes glazed over. "I didn't tell you that to get a response. I just wanted to let you know." She turned around, walking away from him._

* * *

Helga spent the rest of Thanksgiving break avoiding leaving her house. She avoided Rhonda because Rhonda meant sleepovers, and sleepovers meant Phoebe, and Phoebe meant Gerald, and Gerald meant Arnold.

 _Arnold_. She both swooned and enraged at the name. Pushing the thoughts back, she reminded herself that he probably already went back to San Lorenzo - another reason why she chose to avoid him.

She picked out a t-shirt, jeans, and sweater for the day and got ready. Putting mascara on her lashes and brushing her hair, she looked a little bit more feminine than she thought she would ever be. Eleven-year-old Helga would be ashamed if she had known that this is what she would end up being. The effort it took to look decent made her miss being a hairy child, but she supposed it was worth it. It's not like she was wearing a dress or something. She'd rather be dead. She put her sneakers on and grabbed her phone, leaving her house to school.

Entering the school, picked up a coffee from the vending machine. She sipped on her drink as she made her way to her first period class, AP Calculus. That class was mostly unmemorable, only going through the lessons from before the break and the such. Her second period was AP Language, which was a little bit more interesting than she thought it would be.

Coming inside the classroom, she noticed that a crowd of people had been surrounding a particular area in the classroom near the back. Shrugging, she checked the seating chart, and her heart dropped as she realized the reason why people were surrounding that area. Even more frustrating was that she had to sit next to the seat in question. She took a deep breath and made her way to the seat, weaving through the crowd until a yellow blur came into view.

"Helga!" Arnold said, brightening up from the incessant questioning from everyone.

Helga couldn't help but avert her gaze from him as she sat down in her seat next to him. She turned away, leaving him disheartened.

"Helga, it's Arnold! Why don't you care?" Rhonda scolded.

"Because I'm not a little kid like you Rhonda," Helga snapped. "He's your classmate, not a celebrity."

"God, why are you always such a condescending bi-"

"Hello, class!" A voice called as it entered the room. Immediately, everyone scattered to their respective seats away from Helga and Arnold. The class begun and Helga diverted her attention, forcing herself to ignore Arnold's intense staring in her peripheral vision.

* * *

Arnold was excited. He was going to an American school for the first time in five years, and he couldn't help but be giddy as he got ready for school. He raced down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing a bagel from the counter.

"Morning, Mom," Arnold greeted, kissing his mother on the cheek.

"Good morning, Arnold," Stella greeted her son. "Are you ready for your first day of school?"

"Yep," he answered, taking a bite out of his bagel. "I'm pumped."

Stella smiled at his response. It was a difficult decision to stay in Hillwood. Over Thanksgiving break, Stella and Miles saw how happy Arnold was being in his hometown. They thought he was happy in San Lorenzo, but they realized that he was happy only because he was with his parents. If he was surrounded by people that cared about him and loved him, then they were going to do what it took to make Arnold the best possible version of himself he could be. Choosing to stay for the sake of their son, the Shortman's made their choice. Arnold was so happy to hear that they were staying.

Miles entered the kitchen, carrying his wife's cookbook.

"Morning, Dad," Arnold said with his mouth full of food.

"Morning, Son," Miles answered, rubbing Arnold's head. "Here you are, my love,"

Stella received the book gratefully, and flipped through it. Arnold couldn't help but relish in the normalcy of the situation. He never knew what it was like to have a normal, American family, so being there in that situation made him feel exponentially happy. For once, he was just like every one else.

After finishing his breakfast, he bid his parents goodbye. As he exited the boarding house, he felt ready for the day. Starting to walk along the sidewalk, he heard a honk next to him. Looking over, he saw that Gerald had pulled up next to him in an old-looking but still nice car.

"Hey, Arnold," Gerald greeted. "Need a ride?"

"Hey, Gerald," He replied, whistling as he entering the car. "When'd you get the ride?"

"A couple of months ago when I got my license," Gerald answered, making his way to the school. "I had to work day and night, but it was all worth it."

"Nice," Arnold said, rubbing the dashboard.

"Speaking of, you gotta get your license, man."

"Maybe. I'll talk to my parents about it," Arnold answered, sparking an interest in him.

They pulled into the high school parking lot and got out. Seeing Phoebe, Gerald came up to her and kissed her with Arnold following in suit. The smaller girl looked tiny in Gerald's arms, but they fit together like puzzle pieces.

"Good morning, Arnold," Phoebe greeted. "Are you looking forward to your first day?"

"Yeah, I'm really excited," Arnold answered with a smile.

The trio entered the school, falling in line to pick up Arnold's schedule. They participated in mindless chatter until someone came up to them.

"Arnold?" She asked.

"Lila, hey," Arnold answered.

"Oh, Arnold, hello!" Lila greeted, ecstatically giving him a hug. "What are you doing here? Are you here for good?"

"Yeah," he answered, happy to see such a familiar face recognize him.

"Oh, wow, hurray!" She exclaimed.

After a few more pleasantries, the teenagers went their separate ways, Arnold picking up his schedule. His first period was Intro to Art, more or less interesting. Most of the class was comprised of new people he didn't know except for Nadine who didn't seem to notice his presence. After that class, he wandered through the halls, trying to find his second period, AP Language. After asking a few people and stopping to greet old friends, he was able to find his class and checked the seating chart for his seat, eyes widening in glee as he saw that Helga was supposed to sit next to him. A few minutes later, a familiar face entered the room.

"Arnold? Arnold Shortman?!" She exclaimed.

"Hi, Rhonda," Arnold waved.

"Oh. My. God." She screamed, running towards him.

The students already in the room turned to her and curiously came over as she bombarded him with questions.

"-the jungle?" Rhonda went on.

"Wait, a jungle? You lived in a jungle?" Someone asked.

"Uh, yeah-"

"Oh, Arnold is absolutely amazing. He-" Rhonda went on about his accomplishments; although, he had to admit, most of it was either made up or exaggerated.

Arnold couldn't help but look over at the door, watching out for a familiar blonde enter the room, as he answered the bombardment of questions absent-mindedly. After a few minutes, he finally saw her and interrupted Rhonda's speech about him.

"Helga!" He exclaimed, beaming happily at her presence.

Helga averted her gaze away from him as she sat down, looking away from him. Rhonda started scolding her about not caring for him, but Arnold didn't quite care. He wished she would look over at him. He wished she would talk to him.

The teacher entered the room, greeting them. Arnold didn't care and stared at Helga for the whole forty-five minutes, hoping she would look over his way just once.

She didn't.

* * *

After class, Helga packed up quickly, trying to get as far away from Arnold as fast as she possibly could. She made it halfway through the door before she felt a hand hold her back, grabbing her arm.

"Arnold, stop it," she demanded.

"No, not until you talk to me," Arnold replied, letting her arm go.

"I did, remember? I talked to you. I told you what you wanted to know. Now, please leave me alone," she answered, looking down at her feet. "Please..."

"Helga..."

"It doesn't matter anymore, Arnold. Just move on. I don't know what you're still doing here, but it's best that you go back to San Lorenzo with your parents where you belong." Helga said forcefully. A part of Helga was completely disgusted in herself. She didn't mean what she had said. Of course she knew he belonged in Hillwood with his family and friends, but she had her own issues to deal with (what issues, she wasn't even sure of anymore), and if this was the only way to get him to leave her alone, then so be it.

Taken aback by her abrasiveness, Arnold had no choice but to let her go. He didn't know why she hated him so much, but if she did, he's going to respect her space and let her do what she wanted. Helga quickly collected herself and walked away as fast as she could to the nearest girl's bathroom where she knew Arnold couldn't go.

She turned the sink on and wet her hands, slapping her cheeks in a rapid motion. Staring at her reflection, she was ashamed of herself. She knew that Arnold didn't deserve any of the attitude she had given him since he got back. Even she wasn't sure why she was so distant when deep inside, she wanted to ask him so many questions. She wanted to ask him how San Lorenzo was. She wanted to ask him what his life was like there. She wanted to ask if he had any girlfriends or made any relationships with the people there. She wanted to ask him about his flight, and the food, and everything.

But, she couldn't. All because of her stupid pride.

"Damn you, Pataki," she told her reflection.

One of the bathroom stalls swung open and out came Lila Sawyer. Lila hadn't changed at all. The only thing she had made different was her hair. Instead of two braids, she kept it in a tight ponytail. Otherwise she was still the same lovable little girl that everyone liked. Even Helga couldn't help but fall in love with her.

"What's the matter, Helga? Is something troubling you?" Lila asked as she washed her hands.

"No, Lila, I'm fine," Helga answered with a false smile.

"Hm, I can tell that you're not, but I'll respect your decision not to tell me," Lila said, taking a paper towel. "Remember, if you need to talk to someone, you can always talk to me."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, Lila," Helga muttered, listening to her leave the room.

It was times like these that Helga understood why Arnold was enamoured with Lila when they were children. She was beautiful, smart, kind, and understanding. She had not one shred of awful in her. She was essentially a female version of Arnold. They would have been perfect for each other. Heck, they're _still_ perfect for each other. If Arnold met Lila again, Helga had no doubt he would start liking her again, giving her another reason as to why she needed to avoid Arnold at all cost. There were so many other girls much better than her; who's to say that Arnold's not just gonna drop her and go? The only reason why he was probably still talking to her was because she had been so passionate with him when they were kids, and now some sort or Freudian psychobabble bullshit was messing with his head.

Shaking her head, she pushed back all thoughts of Arnold and any sort of feeling about him. She heard the bell ring, signaling that she was now late for her third period.

 _"This is just dandy,"_ she thought as she quickly made her way to her class.

* * *

After school, Gerald had asked him to stick around for basketball practice in hopes of convincing the coach to give him a spot on the varsity team. Arnold was too distracted about his conversation with Helga to really care. That expression on her face was permanently tattooed on his mind. She looked so distraught when he said he wanted to talk to her. What had he done that made her hate him so much? Was she that upset at him deciding to stay in San Lorenzo with his parents? Could she really be that selfish?

He shook his head. No, Helga isn't that kind of girl. He knew she understood why he wanted to be with his parents. Which means that the problem was him. He had done something wrong. He didn't know what it was, but he knew he was sorry for it.

"You ready, Arnold?" Gerald asked, putting his gym bag next to Arnold.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Arnold answered.

"Hey," Gerald said, "you okay, man?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," Arnold answered dismissively. "Let's go."

"Whatever you say," Gerald shrugged.

The two started to walk towards the gym to meet the basketball coach. Many of the players eyed Arnold as they walked in, whispering amongst themselves, asking if the new guy was good or not. There were some girls who were waiting for the guys to finish sitting at the bleachers who had paused their conversation to drink in his presence.

Arnold noticed the stares and forced himself to be in a playing mood, demonstrating his competency by playing a scrimmage with the rest of the boys when asked. All of the guys were really good, obviously having played from a young age. He didn't start playing basketball until he saw some village boys play shirts and skins. He ended up liking it so much, he came to the village to play with the boys all the time.

By the end of it, the coach was impressed enough and asked him to start coming regularly.

"I'd say you're really good, Shortman," the coach complimented. "Keep coming and I'll see if you're good enough to make varsity. Nice job today."

Many of the boys looked over in alarm at the statement and glared at Arnold.

"Thanks, Coach Marshall. I will do," Arnold answered, ignoring the spiteful gazes.

"See? Didn't I tell you, Coach? My boy's good, isn't he?" Gerald beamed pridefully.

The older man rolled his eyes as he shooed the teenagers away. The two laughed and left the gym.

"Boy, if you make the team, this season's gonna be bitchin'," Gerald said excitedly as he unlocked his car.

"Yeah," Arnold chuckled not as enthusiastically, opening the car door and dropping his bag in.

"Seriously, dude, you gotta talk to me. What's the matter?" Gerald asked, concerned as he started the car.

"It's nothing..." Arnold sighed. "It's Helga. She's... she hates me."

"Naw, Arnold, why would she?"

"I don't know. I think, maybe, I must've done something to upset her."

"Arnold, not once in my entire life, which means your entire life, have I ever seen you upset anyone to a point that Pataki's at. She's probably just dealing with some stuff. Give her some time. Like I said, she'll come around sooner or later," Gerald reasoned.

"Yeah... maybe you're right," Arnold sulked. "I hope you're right."

"That's the spirit. Now, cheer up, dude." Gerald said, pulling over at the Cocoa Hut.

"What are we doing here, Gerald?" Arnold asked curiously.

"Well, I thought you might wanna hang out for a little bit," Gerald explained. "If you don't want to, I can take you home."

"Nah, I'll bite," Arnold said, getting out of the car. "I could use a cocoaccino."

Gerald gave him a thumbs up. "Sounds good. I'll just park the car around. Get me a shake."

Arnold grunted in affirmation and entered the shop. It was dim with only a spotlight on the stage to illuminate the café. He was surprised to see that Helga was getting up on stage.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Helga G. Pataki and I will be reading a poem entitled "Crossing Paths." Ahem." Helga started. Arnold stayed hidden in the shadows, watching her every move closely from afar.

"I never wished to see you. I never wished to hear you. I never meant to feel you. I never meant to want you," she recited eloquently, mesmerizing Arnold into a trance. "When you told me goodbye, I knew I'd have to lie. I had to say I didn't care; I had to say I wouldn't dare.

"I left you there, dazed and confused. I left me there, none amused.

"I gave you all, yet gave you none. You gave me none, but gave me some.

"I couldn't understand why you were so kind, why to all my crudeness you were blind.

"I trekked and traveled far away from you. I trekked and traveled to start anew.

"One day we will meet again, and I will have changed.

"One day we will meet again, and I'll be estranged.

"Our paths will cross, and I promise to be strong.

"Our paths will cross, and we will be where we belong.

"But, so long I will miss you, so long I will be forlorn. So long I will wish to be with you, and in my heart, a sadness forever piercing through," she finished, taking a small bow as the small amount of people in the café clapped.

He watched her get off the stage and walk towards an empty seat with her backpack sitting on the table. She recollected her things and started to walk towards the exit, making Arnold look left and right rapidly to find a hiding spot. Alas, he was too slow and she saw him. Her eyebrows crinkled in anger, and Arnold couldn't help but feel reminiscent as she looked exactly like the childhood bully that he left five years ago.

"What are you stalking me now?" Helga whispered in respect to the current performing on the stage.

"What? No!" He said a little too loud, earning stares from the crowd. "Sorry."

"Well, then, why are you here?" She asked.

"I just came to hang out with Gerald," he answered. "He's parking the car."

"Oh, sure," Helga rolled her eyes. "You know I'm still not gonna talk to you about it."

"I know. I'm not forcing you to do anything," Arnold answered. "And besides, not everything is about you, Helga." He teased.

Helga flushed in embarrassment at being called out. She huffed and pushed past him, leaving the café. Arnold chuckled at her response and ordered a shake for Gerald and a cocoaccino for himself. He found a seat and mindlessly watched as each performer played a song and read a piece. Gerald eventually came in.

"What'd I miss?" He asked, taking a seat.

"Nothing," Arnold answered with a stupid grin on his face. "Nothing at all."

* * *

She was embarrassed. She hadn't expected him to say what he had.

Securing her bag over her shoulder, she trudged all the way to her the high school in the early December cold. She covered her red cheeks under her scarf and pulled her hat over her eyebrows, hoping to cover up her face as much as she could.

She reached the gym. Racing to quickly get changed, she realized that she had forgotten her basketball shorts and was forced to wear her spandex shorts, groaning at the fact that she was going to be yelled at for being both late and breaking the rules on practice clothes.

When she exited the locking room, the girls were all lined up in a row, being yelled at by the coach for some reason.

"-and to be committed. Oh, Pataki, nice of you to join us," Coach Marshall greeted sarcastically. "Now, tell me what the hell you're thinking wearing this kinda crap in my court?"

"I ran out of clothes, Coach," Helga answered.

"Oh, she ran out of clothes. Silly me," Coach Marshall patronized. "Do you not do your laundry, Girl?"

This received a couple of snickers from her other teammates.

"Apparently not, Coach," Helga answered flatly.

"Do twenty suicides, and don't pull this kinda crap again," Coach Marshall ordered.

Helga internally groaned but started her punishment.

* * *

Hanging her coat on the rack, she yelled out, "Bob, Miriam, I'm home!"

"Oh, Helga, my dear baby sister, hello!" A familiar voice greeted.

Helga's eyes widened as she realized the situation, quickly unhooking her coat and putting it back on. However, she was too slow, and Olga had already enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"Oh, Helga, I missed you so much, baby sister," Olga squealed in delight, rubbing her cheek against Helga's.

"Yeah... hi, Olga. I thought you were stuck in Africa for a much, much, much longer time than a week. What happened to that plan?" Helga asked, struggling to breathe.

"That is an absolutely wonderful little story to tell!" Olga exclaimed as she rushed into the kitchen. "Come quickly and I'll tell you all about it. I made your favorite too: cranberry pie!"

Helga sighed in defeat, putting her coat back and putting her bag on a table. She followed Olga into the kitchen, dreading the conversation she was about to have. Sitting down at the table, Olga placed a delicious piece of pie in front of her. Helga already hated how good it looked.

"-and then we were able to create a cure by mashing up this desert plant called Agalaba from Egypt! Isn't it amazing? We saved the Tutuka tribe! We were able to control the disease completely! All from one plant," Olga enthused.

"Yeah, that's great, Olga," Helga muttered disinterestedly, picking at her pie.

"And so because we did such a great job with the medicine, my boss, sweet old Mr. Kamaswami, decided to give us a vacation for an entire month before we go to Switzerland!"

"Yeah, sounds - did you just say an _entire_ month?" Helga asked with her mouth agape, almost choking on her food.

"Yes, darling sister! Isn't it wonderful? I get to spend time with you, Mommy, and Daddy for an entire month!" Olga answered excitedly.

Helga groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"Is there something wrong, Helga?" Olga asked, concerned about her sister's actions.

"Nope, I just remembered that I have a ton of homework to do so I'll have to see you later," Helga answered, standing up from her seat. "Thanks for the pie."

"Of course, Helga," Olga answered with a smile.

Helga left the kitchen, not seeing the crestfallen look on her sister's face.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Hello! I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of this story. I hope it wasn't too difficult to digest.

If you can't tell, I'm kinda pro-Olga. I don't really agree with most fanfics that make her out to be this evil, self-centered person that's intentionally steering her parents' attention away from Helga. She's still human, and she has her own reasons as to why she's so overly happy and optimistic. Also, it's weird how people make her parents out to be these horrible people that are abusive and stuff. Like I get how Miriam's an alcoholic and Bob's self-centered, but there's plenty of evidence that shows that they really love Helga. They're just the kind of parents that, instead of being all doting and loving and stuff, they just let her be independent even though that's not necessarily the right thing to do.

 **The Jungle Movie is almost out, people! I'm soooooo pumped.**

 **To everyone who reviewed:** GURL. YES. I AGREE WITH EVERYTHING YOU ALL SAID. I THINK WE SHOULD ALL GET TOGETHER AND FORM A HAPPY HEY ARNOLD PARTY AND WATCH THE MOVIE.

I do have a couple of things I'd like to address though:

(1) Bruh, yes, I want them soooo bad to get together in TJM. You know how bomb it would be if they restarted HA! Or start The Pataki's or something?!

(2) I totally see where most people would find it difficult seeing Helga, who still very much likes Arnold, go against everything she wants to do and be all cold and stuff, but you gotta remember that she's only a teenager. And Arnold is someone she hasn't spoken to or seen in five years. Right now, she's just debating whether or not she's actually in love with him or in love with the idea of him, and whether or not he actually likes her or only feels some sort of attachment because of a particular incident that I'm not going to address right now (cough). I know I would too if I were in her situation. People grow up, grow apart, and sometimes see each other after a while and not really know what to do. The story is written in according to their point of view according to their perspective, so even Helga's confused about what she's confused about. It's kinda like how in the show Helga's a bully to Arnold even though she really likes him, y'know?

(3) I decided to update every Friday, mainly because it gives me enough time to write buffers for the following weeks just in case I'm busy (which will happen bc I'm an idiot that decided to take four AP classes this year just cause).

(4) I knooooww that Helga reconfessed on the boat according to the trailer but this is just easier for me to explain what I had in mind.

This week's question: What is one thing about HA! would you change if Nickelodeon gave you an episode to mess with?

Anyway, don't forget to review, follow, and favorite!

-G


	3. Chapter Three

**Little Known Ways to Satisfaction - Chapter Three**

 _The last time she had expressed her feelings for him, they were in a rush and it just came out because of the heat of the moment (he thinks, maybe). He had told her that he needed time to think, and that's what he did - thought about it. A lot, actually._

 _"Helga, wait," Arnold said, grabbing her arm._

 _"Just drop it, Football Head," Helga said, retrieving her arm. "I get it already. You don't like me."_

 _"No- well- you see-" He stumbled over his words._

 _"Just. Drop. It." Helga said. "This isn't the reason why I told you my feelings, Arnold. I'm not some emotional sap that can't handle anything. Do you even know me at all? I'm Helga G. Pataki! I don't do feelings." She said defensively, contradicting herself._

 _"Helga, please just talk to me," Arnold stuttered._

 _"Arnold, I'm fine," Helga said, her features softening. "You don't need to worry about me. This is just a little crush that I'm gonna get over. You don't have to feel bad because you haven't done anything wrong."_

* * *

"So you mean to tell me that Helga _told_ you that she was in love with you when we were eleven?" Gerald reiterated.

"Mhm," Arnold confirmed.

"Helga G. Pataki told you when we were eleven, _before she was human_ , that she was in love with you?"

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Yes, Gerald."

" _Twice_?"

"Yes."

"Shit, that's something. You never told me that part," Gerald said, finishing off his shake, "but then again, you were the only guy crazy enough to date her back when she was a gorilla."

"Hey, watch it. She wasn't _that_ bad," Arnold defended, feeling a little ticked off at the terminology his companion used. Gerald shot him a challenging look. He conceded, understanding Gerlad's perspective. "Okay, fine, she was pretty bad. But, she wasn't as mean as she was when we were together. She was actually really nice when we were alone."

The boys had stayed behind in the café hours after Helga left. They ended up catching up on everything that had happened before and during Arnold's return. It was successful in reconnecting their old friendship that had been dulled by time, and they felt as if Arnold had never left in the first place by the end of the night.

"Is that why you were acting so weird at the Future Tech tower?" Gerald asked.

"Yeah, that was when she kissed me for the first time," Arnold replied, laughing at the cringe-worthy encounter. He would never forget that day.

Eventually, Gerald needed to go back home because his mother started calling for him, so he dropped Arnold off at the boarding house, driving off to his own home.

Arnold entered the boarding house and was greeted with his grandpa chasing down a chicken around their living room.

"Oh, you silly little," Phil exclaimed, limping as fast as he could with a broom in his hands, chasing the chicken down.

"Hey, Grandpa. Need some help?" Arnold asked, concerned for the older man if he were to fall.

"No, you go on up, Short man. This is a battle I have to face myself!" Phil answered, thrusting the broom at the rooster.

Arnold chuckled as he climbed his way up into his room. He took a quick shower and started doing his homework. Eventually the night drew on and he decided to go to sleep. Lying in bed, he reflected on what he knew about the current Hillwood so far.

Her grandparents were getting older. Oskar was actually doing something other than lazily sitting in front of the TV, bellyaching about not getting enough food to eat while his wife worked three jobs. Mr. Hyunh was a grandpa to two adorable little girls now. Mr. Potts was married to a shy librarian named Nancy.

Rhonda didn't really change - just a grown version of her childhood self with more hair and shorter skirts. Stinky, Iggy, Lorenzo, and Harold were all, as expected, taller and broader than when they were kids. Eugene was the president of the drama club and was still very clumsy and gave off "happy-to-see-you" vibes to everyone he talked to. Gerald was buff now with a goatee and everything. He was dating Phoebe who was still very smart. Phoebe's still best friends with Helga.

Helga was mad at him for something he can't quite place his finger on. Helga was still really good at poetry. Helga had long hair now. Helga was still very pretty.

Yawning, he dozed off to sleep counting off the things he knew about Helga.

* * *

Helga couldn't sleep. She tried. She failed. It was no use being in her bed. There was no chance she was going to bed tonight.

Why not? She didn't know. She wished she knew. Maybe it wasn't even just one thing. Maybe it was because Olga's staying for a month, which was going to be dreadful coming home to Ms. Golden Girl singing happy songs around the house as she flaunted her perfection. Maybe it was because her grades were dropping as her brain started getting lazy. Maybe it was because she hadn't spoken to Phoebe in a while.

Maybe it was Arnold.

"Argh," she groaned. She was getting really sick and tired thinking about Arnold. She was mentally scolding her brain.

 _"I get it. You're in love with him. You want to be with him. But for some stupid reason, you don't want to talk to him."_ She thought.

She felt like she was losing her mind. Here she was lying in her bed at three AM, yelling at herself. If that's not crazy, she wasn't sure what was anymore. She didn't know why he had such an effect on her. She got along fine for five years, so why did his presence suddenly change how she felt and acted? What was so special about him? He hadn't done anything close to remarkable like Olga nor was he the most attractive person in the world. So, why? Why him? Why him out of all the people in the world?

She banged her head on her pillow several times, completely frustrated. She got up and decided to go for a quick walk.

It was way past curfew, so she was going to have to be extra careful. Putting her coat over her pajamas and her hat to hide her messy hair, Helga left her house and started walking towards Mighty Pete. She wasn't quite sure where she wanted to go, but going to Mighty Pete always made her feel like she'd know what to do.

Reaching the tree, Helga climbed up the ladder to the treehouse. It was nice. She remembered the day when she climbed up here with Arnold and all the other neighborhood kids to stop her dad from taking the old tree down. It was one of the few times that Bob actually showed concern over her well-being and actually listened to her.

It was now old and not as well-maintained as it was ever since her generation grew up and lost interest. Most kids these days don't really care for a dingy old tree anymore, but Helga still loved it like she had when she was a kid.

As she laid on the dusty floor of the treehouse, she felt her eyes flutter closed, falling asleep blissfully.

* * *

Arnold wondered why Helga wasn't in class. He had been looking forward to seeing her again, but she wasn't there. Was she sick? Did something bad happen? Did she switch out of the class?

He slumped in his seat, half-paying attention and half-wondering what happened to her. Was she avoiding him?

His thoughts were cut off when a huffing Helga swung the door wide open, interrupting the lecture. She was wearing pink pajamas and an oversized coat over it. Her hair was a mess, and her hat was about to slip off her head. She handed the teacher her late pass and slipped into her seat. She had cold sweat on her forehead, and Arnold couldn't help but feel his mood alleviate at the sight of her. She still wasn't looking at him, refusing to acknowledge his existence, but at least she was there. And that was more than enough.

The bell rung after a few minutes. Helga, much like the previous day, packed up her things quickly and quietly. Arnold was about to go after her, but the teacher stopped him before he could leave.

"Arnold, may I speak with you for a moment?" Ms. Felluccio called. Arnold nodded and walked towards her.

"What's going on?" He asked, nervousness lacing his voice.

"Well, I was looking over the assessment essay you turned in yesterday, and I'm wondering - did you take AP Lang at your old high school?" The teacher asked.

"Uh, no, not really. My parents homeschooled me in San Lorenzo." He answered. Was it really that bad?

"That explains it," the teacher concluded as she took out his essay. "You see the point of rhetorical analysis is to analyze the way the author wrote the piece, not what she wrote. Like, say, for example, in the sentence 'she liked the dog,' you analyze each individual word instead of explaining what she liked. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Arnold was completely lost and had no idea what she was talking about, but nodded his head anyway.

"I would give this paper a D+." At this, Arnold's eyes widened.

"What?"

"That's why I suggest if you don't understand what I'm talking about, you tell me now," the teacher emphasized.

"Well, I guess I could use some help," Arnold said, sighing, before having a sudden realization. A lightbulb turned on in his brain. "I know someone who can help me. Helga. She's my friend, and I'm sure she'd be more than willing to help me out."

"That's great," the teacher replied, smiling. "Tell me how it goes."

Arnold smiled, thanked the teacher, and went to his third period. He finally had a reason to be around Helga.

* * *

Helga was relieved that Arnold didn't stop her today. She didn't know if she could handle it after that morning's events.

She had fallen asleep in the Mighty Pete treehouse, and only woke up after nearly freezing to death in the early morning fog. Her head hurt, her back ached, and her skin was as cold as ice. Taking her phone out of her pocket, she felt her heart sink. It was 8:30, and she was already forty-five minutes late. Adrenaline kicking in, she forgot the coldness she felt and bolted straight to school. As she picked up her late slip, the front desk lady was judging her attire, seeing as she was only wearing her pink pajamas and her coat over it.

Annoyed at the stares given to her, Helga grabbed the paper and ran to her second period class. Swinging the door open, everyone stared at her, snickering at how ridiculous she looked. Uncaring, Helga handed the slip off at the teacher's desk and sat down at her seat. She could feel Arnold's gaze once again burning holes into her head. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

In an attempt to quickly reach the stairwell, Helga moved her legs as fast as her pajama-clad legs could take her, but alas, she was caught up by a shrill voice.

"Wow, Helga," she heard Rhonda snicker behind her, "what a fashion statement."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Rhonda."

The raven-haired girl, in all her prada-bagged glory, laughed her way around Helga and proceeded down the stairs. Helga groaned. As she walked down the halls, she was greeted with whispers and pointing from the students in the halls. She could care less about what other people thought about her appearance, but with everything that she had gone through from that morning, she just wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone at all.

She met up with Phoebe by the lockers, and they walked towards their third period, engaging in mindless chatter. During lunch, she walked back to her house to change. She quickly took a shower and put a sweater on over some sweats.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful until basketball practice when she was trying to prepare for drills.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, annoyed.

"Hi, Helga," Arnold grinned boyishly, politely turning away from the girls on the team he was just talking to.

Helga brushed past him, dropping her bag on one of the bleachers and taking out her bottle of water.

"Well, I was hoping you could help me out," Arnold started.

"No, sorry, I'm busy," Helga interjected.

"Well, if you'd listen-"

"No," Helga turned to him, "I'm sorry, Arnold, but whatever it is, no."

"Oh, come on, Pataki," One of the seniors he was talking to said. "Don't be such a bitch. The boy's done nothing wrong."

"Mind your own business, Deborah," Helga growled.

"Helga, I just need-"

"Shortman, what are you still doing here?" Coach Marshall asked, emerging from the locker room.

"Oh, Coach," Arnold said, suddenly nervous for some reason. "I was just asking Helga about this thing for our English class."

"Oh, well, make it quick. We're starting soon." The coach walked away and started to take out some equipment.

Helga sighed loudly. "What is it?"

Arnold perked up, happy that she was finally listening to what he had to say. "I need a tutor. I wrote an assessment paper and got a D on it, so I could really use a tutor."

"Ask Rhonda," Helga answered dismissively, putting her bottle down.

"Well, I would but," Arnold fidgeted. "I really would like it if you helped me out. And I'm sure Ms. Felluccio would be willing to give you some extra credit if I explained to her how much you helped me."

"I don't really need the extra credit in that class, Hair Boy. Sorry," Helga said, starting to walk towards the court.

"Wait," Arnold said hastily. "I'll pay you. Besides, Helga, aren't we friends?"

Helga stopped. She thought about that word. _Friends_. Were they even that? It's not as if she hated Arnold - no, far from it. It's not as if they were strangers. It was also wrong to say that they were just acquaintances. What were they? Frenemies? Boyfriend and girlfriend? It's complicated? Labels frustrated the hell out of Helga.

What does it matter? Well, she knew she cared for the boy. She was sure she loved him (maybe, sort of) at least as a person. She, vaguely, had an idea of how she felt about him. The only thing she wasn't certain of was how much she wanted to be around him. She didn't know what she wanted out of their relationship.

And now, he was asking for her. He was asking for her help. He chose her to help him in his time of need. Maybe, she should. Maybe, she will.

"Fine. Make it twenty bucks an hour and you've got a deal. And it's only on Mondays after basketball practice, because I have a lot of homework, and I have work on the weekends."

* * *

Helga was quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Arnold's heart started pounding as he awaited for her response. His eyes sparkled in hope. He reached over and attempted to grab her shoulder to further his groveling before she finally gave in.

"Fine. Make it twenty bucks an hour and you've got a deal. And it's only on Mondays after basketball practice, because I have a lot of homework, and I work on the weekends."

"Thanks, Helga. I really owe you," he happily responded, a huge grin lacing his lips.

Helga looked away from him. "Yeah, whatever."

Once he closed the door to the gym, Arnold couldn't help but have a slight spring in his step as he got into Gerald's parked car.

"How was it?" Gerald asked, starting the car.

"She said yes," Arnold answered excitedly.

"That's great, man," Gerald replied, giving him a high five.

"I can't wait for Monday."

Gerald merely laughed at his best friend's actions.

"So, listen," Gerald said, "there's a party tonight at Sid's place. I was thinking maybe we could go, and you can go and see everyone, if you want."

"Sounds good. I haven't been to a party before." Arnold said, happily running on Helga's agreement to his proposal.

"Shit, do they not know how to have fun in South America? Jeez," Gerald exclaimed.

"Well, we did live in the middle of the jungle, so the only parties around were weddings and birthdays."

"My man, we are gonna party tonight," Gerald declared with a wide grin, giving him a wiggled thumb to which the blond reciprocated.

Dropping Arnold off, Gerald gave a small salute before driving off.

"I'll pick you up at ten," he said.

Arnold entered the boarding house and noticed that the only noises he heard were from the living room. Everyone was gathered around the TV, watching some sort of boat show.

"Hey, Arnold!" His dad greeted. "We're watching _Titanic_. Wanna watch?"

"No, thanks, Dad," Arnold answered, plotting a way to sneak out to the party. "I've got some homework to do."

"Okay, but don't say we didn't invite you." Stella called.

Entering his room, Arnold jumped on his bed in excitement. Things were going fantastic.

* * *

Things were not going fantastic.

Things could be the least fantastic as they could be. Helga groaned, slumping in her desk, sliding some pieces of her homework off the table unintentionally. Irritated, she picked up the fallen pieces of paper on her floor. After missing one period of AP Calculus, she was now drowning in late work and lecture notes she had no idea how to figure out.

Now, she was tired, and fatigue was starting to creep up on her body. She didn't like putting off work until Sunday night, but today, she just wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

Her phone vibrated, signaling that someone was calling her. She looked at the screen and saw that Phoebe was calling her. She hasn't spoken to Phoebe in a while, so she decided to pick up, placing the call on speaker.

 _"Helga?"_ She heard Phoebe greet.

"Hey, Pheebs. What's up?" She asked, placing the papers back on the table.

 _"Well, Gerald invited me to come with him tonight at a parties, and, well, you know how I feel about parties,"_ Phoebe stated.

"Yeah. What about it?" Helga asked, balancing her pencil on her nose.

 _"So, I was wondering if you would like to come with me for a while,"_ Phoebe asked.

"Hm..." Helga debated with herself whether or not she should go. On one hand, she could stay and sit in silence, staring at calc problems all night, or she could change and watch stupid teenagers get drunk and make fools out of themselves. The choice was pretty clear.

"Okay," Helga said. "Can you pick me up?"

 _"Of course, Helga. Thank you for accompanying me,"_ Phoebe thanked. _"I'll be at your house in ten minutes."_

"Okay, sounds good."

The phone call ended, and Helga took a deep breath before getting up from her seat. She stretched her back and muscles, feeling her body refresh from hours of sitting in front of a desk. She was still pretty tired, but she could handle it. She walked towards her closet and picked out a tank top and some jeans, throwing a jacket over it. If she was going to be out for hours, she might as well be comfortable.

She put on a quick coat of mascara before coming down the stairs, seeing her family in the living room watching TV.

"Hey, baby sister!" Olga greeted from the couch, making Bob and Miriam look over in her direction. "Where are you off to?"

"I'm going to a party." She answered, putting on her sneakers.

Bob grunted. "Don't do anything stupid, girl."

"Be careful, honey! Don't drink and drive," Miriam called, her head wobbling like a top as she dozed off.

"I won't," Helga said.

 _"I'm not as irresponsible as you, Mom,"_ shethought to herself.

"Do you need a ride, Helga?" Olga asked, clearly wanting to have time alone with Helga.

"No," Helga answered, "Phoebe's picking me up."

"Oh," Olga said disappointedly. "Well, if you need a ride, just call me, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Helga replied boredly.

She saw Phoebe's car pull up from the window. She waved goodbye one last time to her family and got into Phoebe's car.

"Hello, Helga," Phoebe said as Helga entered the small car.

"Hey, Pheebs," Helga answered, buckling her seatbelt. "Long time no see."

"I know. It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"Sorry about that. You know how it is with school and all," Helga said, both knowing the obvious lie hanging on her words.

"Yes, of course, I understand," Phoebe replied, understanding Helga's evident struggle.

"So, how are things with you? How are you and Gerald?"

"Oh, splendid," Phoebe gushed, "it's our anniversary on the fifteenth."

"I'm happy for you, Phoebe," Helga said, genuinely delighted for her friend. Maybe even a little jealous.

The two continued with their conversation as the car pulled up in front of Sid's house. There were cars parked all along the block. Music was blasting from the house, drunk teenagers were puking in front of the house, and there were unidentified flying objects being thrown in the air all around the premises.

The two girls exited the car and entered the house, taking in the environment. Helga looked around and saw Rhonda making out with some guy. She saw Harold holding Iggy upside down as the latter chugged on a peg. She watched Lila talking to some guy near the fireplace. It was rather typical.

Phoebe had been doing the same thing, trying to find Gerald. Finally seeing him, she came up to him and greeted him with a kiss. Helga took off her jacket and set it on the couch while mumbling a silent prayer that nothing bad might happen to it as she felt the heat of the house.

She followed her smaller friend but stopped on her tracks, realizing that Arnold was standing right next to them, staring dead straight at her. Quickly spinning around, she laid low trying to camouflage herself in the crowd. She desperately tried to find a room to hide in, but most seemed to be occupied by horny adolescents.

Not really having anywhere else to go, she settled in the kitchen. The stoners were passing around a joint in there and it stank horribly, but it was the only place in the entire house that wasn't completely chaotic. One of the stoners handed her the joint, but she shook her head and continued to observe them. Teenagers were a strange kind of people.

She heard a loud group of people yell in the living room, but she ignored it, absent-mindedly watching the stoners giggle at random words to each other. Eventually, the smell of marijuana wafting in the room disgusted Helga enough to leave the room.

She went outside to the stoop of the house, sitting down tiredly. She felt her eyes feel heavy, and her movements were getting heavier. Supporting her head with her hand, she decided to close her eyes for a moment, feeling the coldness of her environment.

December was rolling around, which meant she had less than a month to get her grades up. Her hair was getting too long. She was going to have to cut it. Her shoes were getting too small, too. She would need to buy some new ones.

Her thoughts trailed as she slowly felt herself lull into a nap. It was disturbed, however, by the feeling of warm fabric around her shoulders. Opening her eyes, she realized someone had draped his coat around her, and the very person was sitting closely next to her.

"Arnold-o," she muttered, staring at him exhaustively, being too tired to move from her spot. Her view of him was blurred and cloudy, but she could tell that it was him. Heck, if you put her in a sea of Arnold clones, she'd know which one was real.

"Helga," Arnold replied, giving her a small smile.

"Why?" She asked sleepily.

"'Why' what?" He asked.

"Why are you doing this?" She clarified, yawning widely.

"Because I like you."

"How do you know?" She felt her muscles relax.

"I just do."

"Lucky you..." she answered, "I have no idea what to think of you."

Her eyes gradually closed before she finally passed out.

* * *

When Arnold saw Helga run away from him, he decided not to bother her. After all, he had gotten her to agree to tutoring him, so he had no reason to force his presence on her if she didn't want it. He was going to see her anyway. So, he just watched her go through the crowd of people in the house, slouching to hide herself.

"Arnold!" He heard someone call.

He disconnected his gaze from Helga and turned to see who had called out to him. It was Sid. It took Arnold a few minutes to realize who he was because he almost looked nothing like what he did when they were younger. He was still skinny, but he was taller and he didn't have a hat anymore. The rest of his face grew around his nose. He looked different, but Arnold still smiled at the sight of an old friend.

"Hey, Sid," Arnold replied, offering a quick bro-shake to him.

"How are you doing, man? I'm glad you could make it." Sid responded, returning the shake.

"Great. Nice party," Arnold answered, haphazardly looking around.

"Aw, man, make yourself comfortable. Go grab some beers. Actually," Sid turned around, and saw a red Solo cup on the table, and picked it up, "here, my dude. Enjoy the American life."

Arnold was about to shake his head and refuse the already-drank-from cup, but Sid suddenly raised the cup. Arnold realized that Sid was completely fucked up.

"Let's hear it for Arnold! My buddy from South America! He's back to the American life!" Sid hollered.

Everyone in proximity turned and raised their cups, shouting, "Hurray!"

Arnold felt a bit embarrassed at the attention but he smiled anyway. He turned around to Phoebe and Gerald and saw that they, too, were raising their cups in his honor. He felt welcomed back.

"Thanks, guys," Arnold responded gratefully.

"No problem, dude," Sid answered dizzily, placing a hand on Arnold's shoulder, "Now, for your 'welcome back' initiation, chug!"

Sid placed a half full cup of beer in his hands. "Chug! Chug! Chug!" Everyone started to chant.

Arnold gave in and gulped the bitter-tasting liquid. He let out a small smile and raised his cup.

"Yeah, my man Arnold," Sid cheered.

Arnold laughed and continued to entertain the drunken boy until he saw a familiar blonde exit the kitchen and out the house with an unusual droop in her walk. Worried, he sneaked out of his conversation with Sid and followed her.

Exiting the house, he saw that Helga was just sitting by herself on the stoop. She wasn't moving, but he could see the goosebumps on her arms. Was she drunk? He slowly went down the steps as not to make a noise, took off his coat, and draped it around her shoulders, sitting next to her.

Her eyes opened, and he realized she wasn't drunk. She was just very tired.

"Arnold-o," she muttered, staring at him exhaustively.

"Helga," Arnold replied, giving her a small smile.

"Why?" She asked sleepily.

"'Why' what?" He asked softly, trying his best to restrain himself from removing a strand of her hair away from her face.

"Why are you doing this?" She clarified, yawning widely.

"Because I like you," he answered surely. She might as well knew where he stood with her.

"How do you know?" He hadn't expected that question. Honestly, he had no idea why he was so hung up on her. It was as if she was with him the entire time in South America, so he never found it in him to let her go. In his mind, she was as important to him as she was years ago. Knowing that it wasn't the same for her broke his heart a bit.

"I just do."

"Lucky you..." she answered, "I have no idea what to think of you."

Her eyes gradually closed before she finally passed out.

Arnold scooched over closer to the sleeping blonde and let her sleep on his shoulder. He didn't really know how he felt about her statement. A part of him was sad that her feelings for him had blurred during his absence, but another part was elated that she was still thinking about him. It meant he had a chance.

As she slept on his shoulder, he couldn't help but get a whiff of her shampoo: orange and flowers. She was so light; he could barely feel her weight being pressed up against him. The closer he looked at her face, the more he realized how tired she actually looked. The entire time he had been in Hillwood, he had only ever got to watch her from afar, but now that she was so close to him, battle scars from all-nighters were all over her face from the bags under her eyes to the wrinkles between her eyebrows.

He couldn't help but admire the beauty of every line and curvature of her sleeping head. Her lashes were so long. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold. Her nose was so cute. He lips were so plump - so inviting. He almost wanted to-

No. Not like this. He pulled away from how close his face was to hers with red brushing over his face. He waited for five years. He can hold out a little longer. He can be patient.

And he will wait - that's how sure he was about her.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

IT'S TONIGHT IT'S TONIGHT CAN YOU BELIEVE IT AFTER SO MANY YEARS IT'S HAPPENING TONIGHT OMG IM CRYING FROM EXCITEMENT IM SO EXCITED HELP HELP OMG.

Speaking of really good movies this week, have y'all seen Coco? ITS AMAZING GO SEE IT. I CRIED (yes I cry a lot) FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER THE CREDITS ROLLED BC OF HOW AMAZING IT IS.

Sigh. I'm so happy that I'll keep it short this week.

Thank you to all the reviewers. I really appreciate every single one of you! I honestly feel so motivated when people leave reviews.

Questions: How's your Thanksgiving going? What are you thankful for? How did you feel about that movie (if you're reading this after the movie)? And what did you think about the little AxH action I slipped in there (a LOT more where that came from)?

Remember to review (that especially is my favorite thing in the world when people do it), favorite, and follow!

May your Thanksgivings have been much better than mine -_-

-G


	4. Chapter Four

**Little Known Ways to Satisfaction - Chapter Four**

 _"Helga, I'm trying to tell you that I-" Arnold attempted to say._

 _His sentiment was interrupted when he felt the ground below him shake. Alarmingly, he and Helga shared a panicked look. The Temple of the Green Eyes. It was on the verge of collapsing, and if it does, not only will it destroy the Corazon inside, but it will cause the ultimate destruction of the entire jungle and kill them._

 _Quickly, Arnold grabbed Helga's hand as they ran towards the direction of the Temple. They were relieved to see that the building was still in tact as the tremors grew stronger. They saw Phoebe and Gerald panicking, worriedly screaming profanities._

 _"Guys, what's going on?" Arnold asked, not realizing he was still holding Helga's hand._

 _"The- Sweet Jesus- The volcano's gonna explode!" Gerald screamed._

 _Arnold rapidly turned to the direction of the volcano and confirmed that it was spewing plumes of smoke from its mouth, meaning an eruption was near._

* * *

Helga blinked her eyes open as the sunlight bore through her eyelids. She sat up from her bed, feeling unusually well-rested. She looked at her clock. 8:30. That was the latest she had slept in over three months. Yawning, she heard a snoring from the foot of her bed and realized she wasn't alone.

Her heart jumped as she saw Arnold laying on the floor in the clothes he was wearing the night before. His right arm was covering his eyes and his head was supported by the coat he had used to warm her up in front of Sid's house. Feeling her heart palpitating, she tried to remember what had happened the night before.

She remembered going to Sid's party, and she saw Phoebe, Gerald, and Arnold. She remembered running away and then she talked to Arnold at the front of the house, although she couldn't remember any specifics. Did she have something to drink? She remembered talking to the boy for a little bit and falling asleep in the middle of the conversation. She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. What were they talking about? She couldn't remember if she tried, but, that wasn't all. How did she get home?

She had a vague image of being walked to her doorstep, and Olga had opened the door and taken her to her room, but that didn't explain why Arnold was in her room. How did he get there? Sighing, she took one of the pillows on her bed and attempted to place it under his head to make him feel more comfortable. This caused him to stir into consciousness.

"Helga?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?"

"8:30," She answered, suddenly very wary of her pink Hello Kitty pajamas.

The answer caused Arnold's eyes to shoot wide open. "Shit! Oh, shit, I'm so dead!"

Arnold quickly collected himself and put his shoes on, trying desperately to do it as fast as he possibly could. Helga sat and watched him struggle, figuring that he was probably supposed to be home at that time. She still wanted to ask him what had happened the night before, but she decided she would ask him later on when he wasn't in a rush towards his impending doom.

"I'll see you later, Helga," He called, opening the door to her bedroom.

Helga, quickly realizing that her parents were still probably downstairs, rushed towards him and pushed him away from the door.

"No!" She stopped, "my parents are downstairs. Go through the window."

Understanding, he walked towards the window and realized it was a two-storey drop with only a tree five feet away from the window to climb down from.

"Helga, I can't jump that far," He reasoned.

"Well, you're gonna have to, Football Head. If my parents see you we're both dead!" Helga responded.

"But, I'll be dead anyway if I try to make that jump!"

"Well, at least one of us will end up alive."

"You're not serious, are you?" Arnold asked in feigned nervousness, double-checking his companion's sincerity.

Helga shot a dead-serious expression at him. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Arnold shook his head as he threw his coat out the window, watching it lay crumpled up in the sidewalk at the front of the house. He opened the window as wide as he could and turned to Helga one last time, taking a deep breath.

"Before I die, I have one last request," He said seriously, inching closer to her.

Helga rolled her eyes. "You're literally the biggest drama queen I've ever met in my entire life. Fine, what is it?"

"Kiss me," He answered with a goofy smile.

Embarrassed, Helga picked up her pillow and threw it at him. He jumped to the tree with a running start as he laughed at his own joke, stepping on the window pane for extra support and grabbing a branch, hoisting himself up into the tree. It was at times like these that Arnold was thankful for his jungle skills. The pillow fell on the floor, missing him by a hair. She walked up to the window and watched him climb down the tree, looking back up at her.

"I'll see you on Monday, Helga!" He whisper-yelled.

"Go away, Arnold!" She answered. He shot her one last smile before grabbing his coat, waving at her, and finally running off to the street to his house.

As she watched his silhouette disappear into the street, Helga frowned, realizing that she had a wide grin on her face throughout their entire banter..

* * *

Arnold was especially happy. He was gonna die pretty soon at the hands of his angry parents, but at least he was going to die happy. His heart was pounding, both from running and from Helga. She was so cute wearing her pink cat pajamas. It reminded him of when she used to wear that sickly color when they were younger.

When he reached the front of Sunset Arms, he braced himself, mentally preparing himself to be yelled at and scolded, possibly even grounded. Slowly, he opened the door. No one was home. He tiptoed up the stairs. Seeing his room, he felt relief. He was almost gonna get away with it.

His heart dropped to the floor as he saw his mother sitting on his bed with her arms crossed across her chest, sporting an angry look on her face.

"And where have you been?" She asked.

"Mom, I-"

"Do you know how worried everyone was when we came up to your room and realized you weren't there?" She questioned, standing up from his bed and coming towards him. Arnold felt guilt overcome him.

"I was this," she said, pinching her index finger and thumb close together, "close to calling the police, but I didn't. But I did call Gerald's mom, thinking that maybe you were just hanging out with him," she continued, "but then I found out that you were at some party without telling anyone!"

"Mom, I'm sorry," He said, hugging his mother.

"I mean, come on, Arnold. You know better than to do that. Honey, I'm glad that you're reconnecting with your old friends, but please," she said, calming down slightly, "don't scare us like that. If you would have asked, we would have let you go."

"I'm really sorry, Mom," he apologized again. He didn't really have anything else to say.

"It's okay, Sweetie," she said, kissing his forehead, "Just don't do it again."

In retrospect, Arnold really didn't know why he had lied in the first place. His parents weren't overly strict or anything of that sort, but some teenage rebellion in him compelled him to lie - that maybe if he did, it would be somehow more exciting to leave the boarding house.

After a few more minutes of sitting and "Are you sure you didn't do anything bad?"s, his mom brought him downstairs to feed him. She had made a ham sandwich and started washing the dishes.

"So, do you have any plans you'd like me to know for today?" She asked.

"Not that I know of, but if something comes up, I promise to tell you," He answered guiltily. "Where's Dad?"

"He had to go to the museum to set up the rest of the artifacts we shipped from San Lorenzo."

"When's he getting back?" He wanted to apologize to his father, too.

"Tonight, I think," Stella answered.

Arnold finished his sandwich, thanked his mom, and went up to his room. He decided to finish up his homework as the flurry of emotions in his mind settled.

* * *

"Excuse me, Miss, I ordered my sandwich fifteen minutes ago. Where is it?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'll tell the kitchen to hurry it up for you," Helga said politely.

Mr. Mustard was especially packed today for some odd reason. The kitchen was completely backed up with orders, and tables were getting especially impatient. Her head was starting to hurt from all the orders she had to take and the trash she had to clean up, but she supposed it was worth it. It was all for college, she had to remind herself.

"Table fifteen's getting antsy, guys," Helga called through the window to the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell 'em so is everyone else!" Bruce, the head chef, grunted.

Helga sighed at her coworker's response, picking up a rag to wipe off the front counter. She heard the front door open and a large group of teenagers entered.

"Oh, Helga, hello," She heard Lila's voice greet.

Helga looked up and saw Lila and the drama club enter, all wearing t-shirts for the recent school production of Mamma Mia.

"Hey, Lila, what's up?" Helga responded, trying to politely acknowledge her friend's presence while juggling dirty dishes and orders.

"The drama club just finished rehearsal so we decided to grab a bite," Lila said as she looked around, "but it seems that it's, uh, oh so full today, huh?"

"Yeah, it's a little hectic," Helga said sheepishly, "sorry about that."

Lila shook her head. "Don't even worry about it, Helga. We'll just go to the pizza place next door. I'll see you later."

Helga waved as they exited and released a sigh of relief. She didn't want to deal with drama geeks watching her do her job and boss her around.

"Helga, order's up!"

"Coming!"

* * *

Arnold stretched his back. He had no idea what he was doing. All the symbols on the paper were seemingly floating around. All the 'sin's, 'cos's, and 'tan's were clouding his field of view as he tried to associate them with a picture from the worksheet. He had no idea what the hell the teacher meant by saying that they were related to lines. He wished he paid attention.

It seemed that every time he tried to focus, his mind wandered off into uncharted territory. He couldn't help but remember what happened the night before.

After Helga fell asleep in the middle of their conversation, he decided to let her sleep for a little while. He felt how exhausted she was and wondered why she even came to the party in the first place.

At around two AM, people started leaving the house, including Phoebe and Gerald. Phoebe was about to take Helga home, but Gerald had a little too much to drink so she had to drive him home in her tiny, two-seater car. Arnold couldn't very well drive Gerald's car because he didn't have his license nor could he just leave Helga at Sid's house. So, the boy decided to walk her home, not realizing how far it actually was.

He woke her up, and she was still groggy. They started walking together, but he was still supporting her through some parts of their walk as she stumbled. At some point, he just decided to give her a piggyback ride. He stopped in front of her house and wondered if he should ring the doorbell, when Olga started calling her phone to which he answered.

Olga came down and opened the door for them. She thanked Arnold and asked if she was drunk. He told her that she wasn't, surprising her because of how her little sister was acting. She took Helga upstairs, changing her clothes and cleaning her up. Arnold was about to leave when he realized that his coat was still with Helga.

Olga and he had a whispered conversation, getting to know who each other was as she led him up to Helga's room, which was much more feminine than he expected with creams and pastels all around. They found his coat, but by then it was four-thirty in the morning. Olga had felt bad that he had taken the trouble to take Helga home, so she told him that he could spend the night at their house. He wasn't allowed to sleep in the living room, however, because Bob was particularly strict about boys sleeping over, so he slept on Helga's floor, not really thinking of any consequences. He was tired, too, and his house would have taken at least another thirty minutes of walking.

The next thing he knew, he was woken up by a pillow being propped under his head by the person he wanted to be around the most in the world. It could have been great, but reality had to ruin it. He was happy that she wasn't as distant with him. It meant he was slowly getting to her.

Smiling, Arnold realized he had started throwing his basketball in the air as he thought about Helga. He couldn't comprehend how she was single. She was so beautiful, so smart, atheltic, and kind (when she wanted to be). He couldn't get over how pretty she was. He couldn't get over how adorable she was. He couldn't get over how perfect she was.

And even if he didn't deserve her, he'd be damned before he didn't try.

* * *

"Oh, Helga," a familiar voice called.

The rush had died down, but Helga prefered to have dealt with such chaos than deal with Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd.

"Hello, Rhonda," Helga said patronizingly.

"Aren't you going to get my order, Helga?" Rhonda asked, clearly amused at her reaction.

"Of course," Helga said, retaining a false smile as she walked towards the raven-haired girl, "what can I get for you?"

"I want a veggie special, no onions, no mayo, no peppers, no mustard on gluten-free brown bread, and an iced tea with three packets of fat-free sweetener," Rhonda answered, pleased that she was able to tell Helga what to do.

"Right away, Rhonda," Helga said, frowning as she turned away from Rhonda. She put the order in the kitchen and prepared Rhonda's drink, angrily putting five packets of regular sugar instead of sweetener as an act of spite.

She set the drink down on Rhonda's table, never leaving the girl's gaze.

"What are you doing here, Lloyd?" She asked aggressively.

"Can't I visit my dear friend Helga in her work establishment?" Rhonda asked innocently.

"Sure you can, although I'd prefer if you didn't, but you and I both know that's not why you're really here. Now, spill it," Helga questioned.

"Helga, order's up!" She heard Bruce call, interrupting her interrogation. Sighing, she got up quickly, taking Rhonda's food from the window and set it in front of the girl.

"Take a break, Helga!" She heard her manager call. She nodded, feeling relieved that she could properly ask her companion her questions, and sat down in front of the girl.

"Why are you really here, Rhonda?" She asked once more.

The girl in question daintily wiped her lips with a napkin, flashing a Cheshire smile at Helga. "Nothing. I just wanted to catch up with you," Rhonda answered cooly, "how's your love life?" There it was.

"Non-existent," Helga answered aggressively.

"Really?" Rhonda asked in false surprise as if she knew something no one else did, "Because my sources tell me one Mr. Arnold Shortman was seen sneaking out of your bedroom window as if _something_ had happened the night before. Is that true?"

Helga felt her heart quicken at the mention of earlier events of that day, but she pushed back all emotions rushing through her mind, mustering out, "Yes."

"Wow, I thought that after all this time we've known each other," Rhonda monologued dramatically, "and everything we've been through that you would come to me first to tell me when you start sleeping with someone."

"We're not sleeping together," Helga assured.

"Sure, sure. You're just having sex, right?" Rhonda asked. "You must have had a _wild_ night at Sid's party last night."

Helga groaned. "We're not having sex."

"Well, then explain to me why he was sneaking out of your bedroom window this morning?" Rhonda asked, sipping her fatty iced tea.

Helga didn't know how to respond because even she didn't know why he was at her room. Trying to come up with a good lie, Rhonda had caught her conflicted expression and decided to take advantage of the poor girl's confusion.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you and Jungle Boy are doing the deed," Rhonda lied.

Helga knew she was lying. By Monday, everyone would be talking about how Arnold and Helga were sleeping together. It's not as if Helga cared very much for what other people thought about her (she really couldn't understand why her life was anybody else's business), but she didn't want Arnold to feel bad, especially because he had just started getting accustomed to a normal American high school not even a week ago.

"Rhonda, we are not having sex," Helga reiterated, "He just helped me get home because I passed out at the party."

"Too much to drink?" Rhonda asked, trying to falsely help her classmate at coming up with an excuse.

"Sure," Helga answered, "yeah. I was fucked up so he helped me out and took me home."

"Hm." Rhonda didn't believe a word Helga said. And Helga couldn't blame her. She tried her best to keep Arnold's reputation in tact, but he's just going to have to deal with it.

Rhonda finished drinking her iced tea, paid, and left, leaving her intricate veggie sandwich on the table untouched.

God, she was irritating.

* * *

"Mom, I'm gonna shoot some hoops with Gerald, okay?" Arnold said as he exited the boarding house.

"Okay, sweetie. Be careful."

Arnold walked towards the park, securing the basketball in his arm. It still amazed him how much Hillwood had changed within five years. A lot of the older buildings had been demolished and replaced with newer ones. There were definitely more people populating the city. The sky seemed a little grayer from the smog, but he supposed he wouldn't have had it any other way.

He passed Mighty Pete and decided to pay it a quick visit. He missed this tree. It held many precious memories, and he was glad that they didn't tear it down within the time he was gone. It was old and rickety, but it looked primarily the same. It wasn't as well-maintained as it was before, but it was still as glorious as he remembered it to be. He felt nostalgic thinking about all the pirate adventures, outer space trips, and secret all-boys meetings that he had gone to through the treehouse. He wondered if anyone else liked to visit the tree.

Satisfied at seeing the house, he climbed down and continued his way to the park where he saw Gerald on his phone, waiting for his arrival.

"Gerald," He said, catching the other boy's attention.

"Oh, hey, Arnold," Gerald said sullenly.

"What's wrong?" Arnold asked, throwing him the ball.

"It's nothing. I," Gerald said, catching the ball, "just have a massive hangover, and Phoebe's not making it any easier for me."

"Why? What happened?" Arnold said, preparing himself to block Gerald's advancements.

"I don't even know. We just started arguing outta nowhere," Gerald said, trying to avoid Arnold's blocks, "Women, man."

"Tell me about it," the other boy replied, stealing the ball away from Gerald.

"Oh, yeah," Gerald started, trying to block Arnold's view, "I heard you got lucky last night."

"What are you talking about?" Arnold said, shooting the ball, missing slightly.

"I heard that you were sneaking out of Helga's house this morning," Gerald responded, capturing the falling ball, "I take it things are getting a lot better between you two, huh?"

Arnold blushed at the insinuation that Gerald made regarding what happened the night before. "We didn't- We didn't have sex if you're thinking that."

"Are you sure?" Gerald asked, shooting the ball with Arnold having his guard down. "I'm your best friend. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

"I'm pretty sure I didn't have sex with her, Gerald," Arnold affirmed, "I mean look at me. Do I really look like someone that just had sex?"

"Okay, okay. I believe you," Gerald said after a few seconds of examining his friend's face, deeming it much less happy that it should be while raising his hands up in surrender, "So if you didn't get lucky, what happened?"

Arnold explained to Gerald what had happened at the party and with Olga at her house. He talked about how Helga had passed out, omitting the mushy parts about him admiring her facial features. He explained how Gerald had been heavily drunk and how Phoebe had to drive him home. He talked about how he had to walk Helga back home and by that time it had been too late to go back to his own house, so he just slept over on her floor.

"Oh," Gerald stated, "makes sense."

"Yeah," Arnold said, retrieving his basketball, "do you think people are gonna talk about it?"

"Mm, how do you think I found out, Arnold?" Gerald asked.

"Shit, do you think Helga'll care if they do start talking about us?"

"No," Gerald responded, "I mean, she doesn't seem like the kind of person to really care about what other people think as far as I know."

"That's good," Arnold muttered, shooting the ball in the hoop, missing again, "I don't want her to feel bad because of me."

Gerald grinned at his friend's kind demeanor. Time hadn't eroded his sympathetic nature, and Gerald couldn't help but feel relieved that Arnold hadn't changed much from when they were younger.

"Man, you a sap since we were kids," Gerald laughed, catching the ball and throwing it to Arnold.

"What can I say?" Arnold grinned, shooting the ball again, making it in, "I'm just a good person."

But he knew it was more than that.

* * *

As the sun set, the amount of people entering the Mr. Mustard Sandwich Shop increased. Helga was glad her shift was over, because the dinner rush looked seven times worse than the lunch one. At some point during the day, it had started snowing, prompting more people to enter the shop as a refuge from the cold, especially after the sun had vanished and along with it the warmth it provided.

Securing her bag over her shoulder, she made her way to her house. The days were getting especially colder as Christmas drew near. She disliked Christmas, almost as much as she disliked Thanksgiving. Christmas meant midterms. Midterms meant studying. Studying meant no sleep.

Helga couldn't help but remember how refreshed she had felt that morning. She remembered passing out at the party while she was talking to Arnold. She realized that he probably let her sleep on him. Knowing him, that was probably what happened. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of being propped up against him. She bet he was too good of a person to move, and God knows how long she must have been asleep on him before he took her home.

 _"Oh, Arnold, your kind heart has never been so understanding of my incoherent persona,"_ Helga thought, _"One day I shall determine a winner from the battle between my heart and mind, and find myself once more in your favor."_

Once again, the young girl was reminded that her eleven-year-old self would have been so angry if she had known that teenage Helga was passing up an opportunity to be with the boy she's been in love with since preschool. More than angry, she would be completely disgusted, mortified even. Heck, even present Helga was less than pleased with herself.

Entering her house, she hung her coat up on the rack, wiping off the snow off her shoes.

"I'm home!" She called, walking up the stairs to her room.

Coming in, she realized how messy her room had become since the prior night's events. There were pillows haphazardly all around the floor, the balcony door wasn't closed before she left so her room was basically the North Pole, the wind had blown in and made papers fly all around, and worst of all, Olga was sitting on her bed while reading one of her book of poems.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Helga growled at her sister, snatching the book back.

"Oh, Helga," Olga swooned, "you are such a talented poet!"

"What right do you think you have coming into my room and reading my books?" Helga answered, her face red in pure fury.

Olga became quiet at the tone of anger in her sister's voice. "Oh, you're mad. I'm sorry, Helga. I just thought-"

"Thought that what? We're friends? That you can just come in here and decide how much of my privacy you get to invade? You don't see me barging into your room and looking through your stuff, so why are you doing it to me?" Helga yelled.

"Helga, I-"

"Get out of my room!" She screeched pushing Olga outside her room.

"What the hell are you screaming about like a banshee, girl?" Bob asked, emerging from the hall.

"Nothing, Bob! Why don't you take your precious daughter and go watch the wheel?" Helga answered, trying her best to restrain herself from turning into a puddle.

"Watch it," Bob threatened, "You better watch that tongue of yours, missy. Just because you have shit to deal with, it doesn't mean you can make other people feel like crap."

Bob led the forlorn Olga down the stairs as Helga was left alone in her tornado-stricken room. Angrily, she went to pick up the book Olga had taken from her bookshelf and noticed what the theme of that particular book was, making her even angrier. Chucking the book across the room, she closed the balcony door, jumped on her bed, and buried her face into her pillow while screaming as loud as she could.

The book, laid open on the floor, was showing the first page, reading "To Olga" messily scribbled on the surface.

* * *

Arnold felt uneasy. He felt like something was out of place, as if some cosmic being was pushing him to do something but wouldn't tell him what that something he needed to do was.

He had separated from Gerald hours ago and was now sitting at the table with his family, but there was a nagging feeling in him that was making his dwindling appetite disappear almost completely. He was simply playing with his mashed potatoes and peas, not really thinking of anything other than the thing he had to do. Did he forget to do something? He wasn't quite sure.

"You okay, Short Man?" He heard his grandpa ask.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine," Arnold answered.

"Well, if I didn't know better I'd say you had some problems that you're not telling us, Arnold!" Phil exasperated.

Arnold couldn't help but crack a smile. "It's nothing like that, Grandpa. I just feel like I'm forgetting something."

"Did you do your homework?" Stella suggested, placing a hot pot of roast beef at the center of the table.

"No, but I already know that I haven't done it yet," Arnold answered.

"Did you forget your meeting with the Russians, Mr. President?" His grandma piped up in an army uniform.

"No, Grandma," Arnold responded, chuckling.

"Well, whatever it is, you'll remember eventually," Miles said, flashing his son a reassuring smile.

"Thanks, Dad," Arnold said, once again staring at his peas.

After dinner, Arnold went to his room and grabbed his coat. He put it on and went to the rooftop, wanting to get some fresh air. He liked seeing the twinkling lights of the city at night. He couldn't really see the stars in the sky like he could back in the jungle, but the city was just as nice. Everything was different; everything was a lot more grown-up, and a part of him longed for the childhood innocence he had left behind. The snow crunched under his feet and a white fog escaped his lips with each breath he took. There was no cold in San Lorenzo, and he had missed the frostbite.

Finally knowing what he needed to do, he took a seat on the edge of the roof and took out his phone. He dialed a phone number he had memorized earlier from Gerald.

"Hey, how are you doing?" He asked, feeling the cold air entering his lungs.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Don't you just love cliffhangers? Although, this one isn't _super_ bad.

I'm getting kinda antsy with all these buffers I'm writing. Like, I waNNA UPLOAD DAMN IT, but I can't T_T. If I do, I wouldn't have anything to post when I'm actually busy. Huhuhuhuhu.

What did you think about it? V grown up with the parental fights, huh? I wanted it to be realistic. I just don't understand how some people write their stories with teenagers just being able to stay out all night just because. Like I get it when your parents are like super chill and hands off, but I just don't see Arnold's parents like that. If that was me, I woulda got an asswhooping my children would have felt, like shit. And with Helga, I would be waaaay madder than she was at Olga. Like, I don't touch your shit so why are you touching mine? Major pet peeve.

 **IMPORTANT** : I'm sorry if I offended anyone when I asked how your Thanksgivings were. I should have been more aware that much of the readers don't celebrate Thanksgiving. I apologize, but please understand that I live in America and it naturally makes me more wary towards holidays that occur around me. If you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, then please allow me to rephrase my previous question: How was your day?

Sigh, how are you guys doing with your lives? Mine is dry af. Like school = dry. Work = dry. DM game = drier than the fucking Sahara. Is it just me or is it so hard to find a guy in high school that's not programmed with a six-year-old's brain? Like why can't Arnold just be real? Why can't we all just each have an Arnold?

 **EDIT** : IM WATCHING TJM RIGHT NOW AND ITS SOOOOO GOOD I ACTUALLY CRIED WHEN THEY SHOWED THE MONTAGE AND THE MEETING WITH HIS PARENTS AND WHEN HE KISSED HELGA OH MY LORD I COULD WATCH AND REWATCH THAT SHIT OVER AND OVER AND GERALD AND PHOEBE ARE CANNON AND IT MIGHT START SEASON SIX HOLY SHIT SOMEONE HELP (Most of my chapters are prewritten so this is just a little insert hahaha). It's a little different than what my version of TJM is but I hope you'll still like it!

Anyway, review (it makes my day, no joke), favorite, and follow!

Luv u guys

-G


	5. Chapter Five

**Little Known Ways to Satisfaction - Chapter Five**

 _"What are we going to do, Arnold? What if we die?" Gerald panicked as they ran the opposite direction of the volcanic eruption into the dense forest._

 _"We're not gonna die, Gerald - I think," Arnold answered, trying to think of a way to save them from being burned to death by molten lava._

 _"How do you know that, Arnold? We're going to die!" Gerald exclaimed._

 _"Gerald, shut up!" Helga yelled, brushing away leaves out of her way._

 _As they ran, Arnold spotted a high mountain that looked like it was relatively close by. Tugging on Helga's hand, he motioned towards it. Immediately, Helga understood his signal, turning her gears on to run quicker towards it._

 _"We have to get to higher ground," Arnold said, pointing to the mountain._

* * *

"Arnold, what a pleasant surprise," Rhonda answered, painting her nails as she set her phone between her shoulder and ear, "what can I do for you?"

 _"Rhonda, I need a favor from you,"_ Arnold asked.

"Anything, old friend. What can I do for you?" Rhonda replied, pushing off a thick pair of legs off her bed, eliciting an angry grunt from the owner.

 _"Well, there's this rumor going around about me and Helga-"_

"Mhm, that you're having sex."

 _"Right, which isn't true by the way. I-"_

"Arnold and Helga are having sex?" asked the boy on Rhonda's bed.

"Mind your own business," Rhonda scowled, "Continue, Arnold."

 _"Um, well, I was wondering if you could do some, like, uh, help us out, like-"_

"Damage control?" Rhonda suggested, blowing on her fingers.

 _"Yeah! Damage control. But, you do know we're not sleeping together, right?"_

"Sure, sure, Arnold. Whatever you want people to believe," Rhonda answered patronizingly.

 _"Rhonda, we're not having sex."_

"That's the spirit, Arnold. I'll make sure to let people know you and Helga _aren't_ having sex."

 _"That's great. Thanks, Rhonda."_

"Mhm, no problem. Anything for an old friend," Rhonda answered uberly-friendly, ending the call.

"So, Arnold and Helga aren't doing it?" asked the boy on her bed once more.

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Of course they are, Harold. Now, get your ass off my bed and get out of my house."

Harold groaned but followed the girl's instructions.

* * *

Sunday was miserable for Helga. She had spent the entire day cleaning her room, doing her homework, and locking herself in to avoid confrontation with Olga and her parents. After sleeping off her anger, Helga realized that she might have overreacted a bit. Olga hadn't actually done any direct harm to her, but Helga still exploded on the older girl. She felt guilty, of course, but her pride was stopping her from telling Olga that. Before she knew it, Monday had rolled in.

"Do you understand?" Helga asked. Seeing that her companion was absent-mindedly staring at her with a dopey look on his face, her eyes narrowed in irritation. "Arnold!"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course, Helga," He answered, chuckling as he snapped back into reality.

The two teenagers were in Helga's room on the floor with mountains of paper and school supplies littered all around them. Arnold had waited for her after the girls' basketball practice. He was amazed at how good she was at playing the sport, noticing that she was much, much better than he could ever be. When she played, it was as if she was in her own world like a warrior dominating over her opponents in war.

Arriving to her house, they were greeted by Olga's singing as she baked her famous treats. Arnold was happy to have been welcomed warmly by Helga's sister, but Helga looked less than pleased with her sibling for some reason. After greeting the saddened older girl, he followed Helga up to her room, deciding to talk to her about it later on.

"Okay, then what did I just say?" She challenged.

"Uh... sixteen?" He answered, unsure of what she had said.

Helga rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that's the answer to something, Football Head, but not to my question."

"Well, it's not my fault. You're too distracting," Arnold stated accusingly.

"I've done nothing distracting! I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're too pretty. It's taking my attention away," He grinned playfully.

Helga playfully pushed his shoulder in embarrassment, coughing to hide the boisterous laughter in her throat.

"You are so corny," She laughed, "but you gotta pay attention. This is for your grades, remember?"

"Yeah, sure, sure," He answered, waving his hand dismissively, "Now, you were saying something about readers or something?"

"Okay," She sighed, "the reader needs to..."

Arnold zoned out again watching his companion talk. He was watching her lips move, mesmerized by how glossy and pink they were. The way they moved open and close as she said some fancy word he would never understand captured his attention like a hypnotizing pendulum.

"Arnold, pay attention!" Helga exclaimed, noticing his blank stare.

"I am. I am. Keep talking," He answered half-heartedly.

"Write something then. Show me what you know from what I told you," She challenged, giving him a pen and paper.

Arnold stared down on the stationery blankly. He picked up a pen and scribbled down a random sentence about ducks.

"' _The duck's appearance makes it look attractive because of its white feathers.'_ Arnold, what the fuck?" Helga read, laughing loudly.

"I don't know. I think ducks are very attractive," He responded, "hey, you're kind of like a duck."

Hitting him again, Helga shook her head at the banter, flushing slightly at his blatant flirting. He couldn't help but smile at her reaction. She wasn't repulsed or pushing him away. He was making definite progress.

"Seriously, Arnold, listen," She said seriously, staring at his face into his eyes intently, "pay attention to what I'm telling you."

"Yes, ma'am," He responded, but he knew it would take a long time before he would make any progress academic-wise.

* * *

"Alfred, pass the potatoes," grunted Bob Pataki.

"It's Arnold, Bob," Helga interrupted irately.

"Yeah, yeah, Arthur," Bob grunted.

"You know, B, you could be a little nicer to our guest," Miriam chastised, clearly ditsy from her recent encounter with the blender and bottles of "smoothie" mix.

"Shut your trap, Miriam. It's my house I can do whatever I want," Bob shot back angrily.

"Well, it's my house, too, and I say you should be nicer!" Miriam answered back.

"It's alright, Mr. and Mrs. Pataki. I don't really mind," Arnold tried to pacify.

"Shut your mouth, boy. Don't interrupt adult conversation!" Bob snapped.

"Daddy, be nicer to Helga's friend," Olga tried to intervene.

"Don't involve yourself, Olga!"

"Don't yell at the kids, Bob!" Miriam argued.

Helga looked visibly embarrassed at the dysfunctionality of her family. She was fidgeting in her seat, trying to pray that Arnold, some way somehow, was blind to it all. The boy saw her discomfort and took her hand from under the table, clenching it tightly, reassuring her that he wasn't going anywhere. Helga didn't refuse his gesture and grabbed his hand just as tight, praying that her parents would soon be quiet.

"I'm so sick and tired of you, you alcoholic idiot!" Bob screamed.

Miriam looked hurt at Bob's sentiment. Helga couldn't help but feel bad for her mother, but she didn't want to do anything that might cause any further damage to whatever dignity her family had left. Her mother started sobbing and ran out of the kitchen. Olga ran after the older woman while Bob continued to eat his dinner. Helga shook her head, grabbed her and Arnold's coats, and led the boy out the house into the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry about that, Arnold," She apologized shamefully.

The boy didn't say anything, not really sure what was appropriate to say. He wanted to comfort her and tell her that it was okay, but so many thoughts were swarming his mind, he wasn't sure where to start.

"You can go now. I'm sorry you couldn't finish your dinner," She said, staring down at her shoes, "I'll make it up to you next time."

"Helga, are you okay?" He asked as he saw the completely distraught expression on her face, concerned and suddenly aware that he was still holding her cold, clammy hand.

Helga wasn't expecting the question and was slightly taken aback. Even after seeing her messed up family, he was still concerned for her. He wasn't running away. How weird was this guy?

"I- yeah, I am. Thanks for asking, Arnold," She smiled sullenly.

"If you wanna talk about it, we can talk about it. I'm not in a rush."

"As much as I'd want to, Football Head, it's a school night. Go home."

"It's only eight-thirty," Arnold reasoned, "talk to me if you want to."

Helga eyed him for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. She let go of his hand, feeling the coldness of the air on her sweaty palm, and sat down on the edge of the curb. "They've been at it for a while now."

Arnold silently followed her and sat on the space next to the girl.

"It's normally not as bad when Olga's home, but it still happens," Helga sighed.

"How come?" Arnold asked, watching his breath make a white cloud in the night.

"I don't know," answered the girl, "I think it's cause Miriam is getting antsy."

"Antsy?"

"Yeah, I think she's getting really sick of Bob. I think she's getting really sick of _us_."

"No, of course not, Helga. She loves you," Arnold contradicted.

"I guess, but she's not happy. Not at all," Helga said sadly, "I remember when Bob threw his back a couple of years ago, and Mom had to take over the beeper company. Do you remember?" She propped her head on her hands, "She was so happy, Arnold. She was in charge. Being in this marriage - being in this _family_ \- it's trapping her."

"I'm sorry, Helga," Arnold comforted, not really sure of what to say.

"Sometimes, I think that maybe we would be better off if Miriam would just man up and leave, you know," Helga responded sullenly, "And then there's the fact that Olga and I can't last in the same room together for more than five minutes."

"Why not?"

"She's just... She does stuff like reading my journals without asking and I overreacted and got really mad, so now we're not talking," she huffed, staring blankly at the dark empty streets.

"Why don't you talk to her about it?" Arnold tried to reason, "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding."

"I just don't wanna deal with it right now."

"She's your sister. She's not going to hurt you."

"That's a stretch. She's always been hurting me whether or not she did it on purpose." Helga argued, remembering all the times she was harmed physically and emotionally by her sister's actions and presence.

"Helga, I know you love your sister even if you insist that you don't. Maybe if you tell her how you feel, you two will get along much better," Arnold advised.

"It doesn't matter. When she leaves, everything's gonna go back to the way they were," She sighed, "Miriam's gonna keep bitching about every tiny thing, Bob's gonna fight back, and I'm gonna be the one stuck in the middle."

"It doesn't have to be that way, Helga. Things can still get better."

"I don't know. I just want everything to calm down."

Arnold wrapped his arm around her and kissed her temple. "Everything will work out, Helga."

He had stayed for a few minutes on the curb with Helga until the house started to quiet down. They just sat in silence in each other's arms, enjoying each other's company.

"Do you remember when you dressed up as Lila in fourth grade?" He asked, diverging from their current situation to lighten up the atmosphere.

"Oh, God. Don't bring that up," She groaned, shamefully hiding her red face behind her hands.

Arnold chuckled at her response. "What was that about?"

"Well, uh," She stumbled, "I was trying to impress you, believe it or not."

"Impress me?" He clarified curiously.

"Yeah, you should have figured it out by now," She replied, taking a peek at his amused face between her fingers, "I was obssessed with trying to impress you."

"How was that trying to impress me?" He smiled amusedly.

"You were in love with the girl, Football Head," Helga answered, laughing slightly, "We were nine, and I thought that if you kept liking her you'd end up together and I would get pushed aside, so, I tried to be like her so you'd notice me."

"But I did notice you, Helga."

"Well, obviously. I shot, like, fifty spitballs at you everyday. It would be hard to ignore me," She laughed.

"I'm noticing you right now," He answered seriously.

This rendered Helga to be quiet for a few minutes. "...Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" He asked.

"Trying to make me like you," She said seriously.

"Why not? Am I not likeable?" He asked teasingly, honestly quite scared of her answer.

"You- I- no comment," She blushed, "I just can't right now. I'm just not done thinking yet."

"Then take your time. I'm not in a rush. You can think until we're eighty, and I wouldn't care. I'll wait for you to finish thinking," He stated in the most serious tone that he could muster.

"Augh," She groaned, "This is what I'm tailking about. Stop being so nice. Stop being so sweet. It's so... augh."

Arnold laughed. "You need some time to think about what you want to say?"

"Shut up," Helga complained, rolling her eyes.

"What other things did you try to do to impress me?" The boy asked, purposely distracting the girl to keep her mind off her family.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" She laughed, "They're too cringe. I'll tell you in ten years."

"So, I'll still be in your life in ten years?"

"Shut up."

Eventually, the weather took a turn for the worse and started to snow, making it too cold and too dark to keep sitting on the side of the street, so the two decided to go back inside.

* * *

When Arnold came home, he was greeted by the sight of his parents making out in their living room.

"Oh, Arnold!" Stella exclaimed, pushing her husband off of her, "Hey, honey, did you just arrive? How was tutoring?" Miles, obviously flustered, greeted his son with a shaky "hello."

"It was great. I just arrived. Don't worry," Arnold chuckled, climbing up the stairs to his room.

He wished that Helga's parents were as happy as his. Maybe then she wouldn't be so _un_ happy. He hated seeing her so sad. He had always seen Helga Pataki as a strong, independent woman that took no shit from anyone and pushed herself to do whatever she wanted no matter what the circumstances. The Helga Pataki he had witnessed was a sad little girl that just wanted everything to be okay. It was heartbreaking.

Throwing himself on his bed, he looked up on his skylight and watched the moon. Maybe one day he can take Helga to his room to watch something pretty like this. He wanted to do whatever he could to make her feel better, but being someone that's never been in her situation, he had not one clue as to how it felt to be surrounded by such constant negativity. He had no idea on the first step to making her feel better about her situation.

Arnold had walked her back to her room after talking out in the street, seeing Bob still eating by himself in the kitchen (for some reason he hadn't finished in all that time) and the other Pataki women in the living room still crying and hugging each other. He noticed that Helga wasn't crying nor did she seem angry; moreso, she was still embarrassed.

He had hugged her one last time before quickly running out the house to avoid anymore conversation with the rest of her family and went back to the boarding house. He wished he could have stayed for a few more minutes. He wanted to make sure that she was a hundred percent okay, but she insisted that he go home because of school the next day. He supposed she was right and returned to Sunset Arms.

 _"Tomorrow,"_ he thought, " _I'll see her again tomorrow_."

* * *

Tuesday had rolled around, and Helga was placing her books in her locker. As per usual, she was still exhausted and had a strong desire to regress and punch someone. Her normal boredness was evident, a poisonous stoicness in her expression. Several times throughout break was she stared at by random kids across the halls or when walking past her as they bustled to class. She felt that she would have cared if only she had enough energy to spend beating people up like she used to when she was younger.

Taking out her books for her English class, she felt a presence approach next to her. Seeing a familiar sight, she smiled.

"Hey, Pheebs," Helga greeted, shutting her locker.

"Hello, Helga," the smaller girl greeted back, "how are you?"

"I'm good. Yourself?"

"I'm very well. Listen, Helga," Phoebe started, "I really want to hangout with you soon. We haven't spent some time together in a while."

"Of course, Pheebs. Anytime. Just text me the details, okay?" Helga answered happily.

"Great! I have to go to class now. Bye," Phoebe waved goodbye.

Securing her books in her hands, she started to make her way to her class when a pair of arms suddenly took the thick texts from her grasp.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Helga questioned irritatedly.

"You just looked like you were struggling," Arnold answered, ironically struggling himself with her books and his own.

"Speak for yourself, Football Head," She snickered, taking her books back from him and walking towards their classroom, "Thanks, but I can carry my own books myself."

"Come on, can't you let me be sweet, Helga?" He asked, playfully groaning as he followed in suit, "I'm trying to be charming here."

Rolling her eyes, Helga smiled. "Sure, sure. Message received."

"That doesn't count," He complained, happy to have seen her crack a grin.

"Sure it does, Arnold," She said, stopping in front of the room.

"Good," He responded, opening the door for her, "I would hate to think that you'd think of me as anything less than a gentleman."

"Of course not," She replied, entering the room.

The two sat in their seats, watching their teacher go to the front of the class and begin the lecture. Helga took out her notebook and pen dutifully while her companion decided to, as per the norm, stare at her intently, ignoring the teacher completely. Arnold was glad that Helga felt better since the night before. She looked the same as she usually did: tired, bored, and murderous - just how he liked it.

"So what are you doing after school today?" He whispered as Ms. Felluccio went on about sentence structure.

"Basketball practice for the girls' game on Friday. Pay attention to Ms. Felluccio. This is why you're failing. Now, shh," Helga answered, eyes still focused on the Italian lady at the front of the classroom.

Arnold pursed his lips and then became quiet for a few seconds, but became to excited and spoke again. "Well, it's the guys' basketball practice before the girls do. What are you doing before then?"

"Homework. Shh," She shushed again.

Arnold, satisfied with her response, leaned back into his seat. He tried to pay attention to the teacher until an idea popped in his head. "What about-"

"Arnold," Mr. Felluccio said, giving the boy a look.

"Sorry," He meeked, leaning back into his seat.

The class, including Helga, laughed at the blond, with the girl not once tearing her eyes away from the front of the room. Seeing as how he had made her laugh, Arnold sat back in his seat and was able to successfully pay attention (sort of; as much as his attention span could take it) to the teacher for the rest of the thirty-two minutes in the classroom.

* * *

 _"Isn't he so cute?"_

 _"Yeah! He's so cool, too. Very exotic. He has that sexy, jungle, Tarzan thing going on."_

 _"I know. Man, I'd let him swing on my vine anytime."_

 _"Ew, Mary, no! Haha. Besides, isn't he having sex Helga Pataki?"_

 _"Augh. No offense, but he is way more attractive than her."_

 _"I know, right? Maybe he just has bad taste?"_

Helga heard the bathroom door swing open and shut accompanied by schoolgirl giggling, leaving her alone in the room in silence. She left the cubicle and washed her hands. Sighing as she saw her reflection, she let her hands finish their task. Patting her cheeks in a rapid motion, she felt herself wake up. Making sure that there was no one around her, she took out her beloved heart locket and watched the sleepy boy stare back at her. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Oh, Arnold..." She said longingly, "I'm sorry for being so frustrating."

She returned her necklace back into her pocket. She knew who those girls were. They were freshmen. She knew them from her peer mentoring program over the summer. She hadn't cared enough to pay any attention to them, but she had recognized the tacky perfume and sharp laughter. It didn't really matter to her anyway; they can think whatever they want about her. She had her own issues to deal with, and she didn't need freshman drama to add to her already-long list of things to prioritize. And to some extent, she did agree with them; Arnold _did_ just have bad taste.

Ripping a new paper towel off the roll, Helga took one last glance in the mirror and exited the bathroom. She made her way to her next class, stopping by her locker to pick up the appropriate books undisturbed. She opened the door to her class and slumped down in her seat.

She was going to need a little bit more optimism to get through the day - and through life.

* * *

"Shortman!"

"Yeah, Coach?" Arnold asked, panting as he diverged from a scrimmage with the other boys.

"You're doing really well these days," Coach Marshall said.

"Oh, thanks. I've been really trying, Coach," The younger boy thanked.

"I'm putting you in the game tomorrow night. For varsity."

Arnold's eyes widened in glee. "Really? That's amazing, Coach. I won't let you down!"

"Sure, sure. Now get your ass over to the court."

Arnold happily ran back towards the other boys with a wide grin on his face.

"What are you smiling about, Shortman?" One of the boys panted, trying to block another boy from shooting the ball.

"I'm playing varsity tomorrow," Arnold answered, mimicking the boys movements.

At this, the boys paused. Many of them just stared at him as the words left his mouth. Several shot deadly looks while the rest (comprised of the boys already on the basketball team) congratulated him.

"I knew it. I knew you could do it," Gerald declared, giving him a handshake.

"I'm lookin' forward to workin' with ya', Arnold," Stinky agreed.

"Yeah! This season's going to be awesome," Lorenzo smiled.

Arnold received the congratulations dignifiedly. He primarily ignored the rest of the boys that looked like they wanted to kill him and started playing even harder once they resumed the game, making it a little harder to lose against his team, and was successful in achieving victory over the lesser-qualified boys. Disgruntled, the rest of the JV boys lost the match against Arnold and his team.

"Hey, Arnold," Iggy said, congratulating the boy, "nice job making varsity, man."

"Thanks, Iggy," Arnold thanked.

Practice for the boys eventually ended, and the girls soon filed in the gym for their practice. Arnold purposely lagged, hoping to catch sight of a certain blonde, but the impatient Gerald had pulled him away after half an hour of waiting. The raven-haired boy dropped his friend off home, hurrying to pick up his girlfriend for a study date. Arnold rolled his eyes, waving goodbye as the car quickly disappeared out of the boarding house's driveway.

Entering his room, Arnold started on his homework, deciding to finish off his load before going to walk back to the school to take Helga home after her practice.

* * *

Helga's sweat was starting to go into her eyes, and it was starting to piss the hell out of her. She couldn't very well wipe it off as she normally would as her hands were preoccupied blocking a very tall senior's way from shooting. As a matter of fact, her hands were too busy blocking several very tall senior's from overriding her team. It was juniors versus seniors, and every junior except for Helga sucked.

"Marie, get your ass in front of Deborah. She's about to get the ball from Macey!" Helga screeched.

The girl in question looked panicked and scared at the blonde's growling. She looked left and right, trying to find Deborah, ultimately taking too long which allowed for the opposing team to shoot the ball successfully. The older girls high-fived each other while the juniors were left defeated. Helga looked irritated at the rest of her team members, but decided to let their coach to reprimand them.

After a lengthy pep talk, the juniors ended up being annoyed with Helga because she had made them look bad, which wasn't necessarily uncommon during practices and games. Helga didn't have any friends on the team, opting to maintain professional, only ever speaking to them when she told them what they needed to do instead of creating friendships like the rest of them were. She didn't care. She played basketball because she was good at it, and it was her ticket to a good scholarship. She could care less whether Barbie and Mary Sue were pissed at her because she didn't want to talk about shopping and nails.

Packing her things up, Helga left the gym out into the cold air. Her hair was still up in a horrendous ponytail, completely drenched with sweat, making her feel cooler as her feet crunched the snow. She was surprised when she noticed a shadowy figure standing against a streetlight in the gym parking lot, kind of creeped out. Securing her coat around her, she tried to quickly walk past the figure, but it had noticed her and grabbed her arm. Shrieking, she started beating the figure with her bag.

"Ow! Helga, it's me. Calm down," the man said.

Realizing that it was just Arnold, Helga stopped attacking him with her bag before resuming after realizing that he had nearly scared her to death. "What the hell are you thinking, attacking me like that?"

"I thought you knew it was me! You were staring directly at me from the gym door."

"Yeah, well, I didn't see you," Helga huffed, walking away from him, "How was I supposed to know you weren't some murderer-rapist?"

Rolling his eyes, Arnold started to follow her. "I don't know what kinda crime shows you've been watching, but I'm only here to make sure that there aren't any murder-rapists around to murder-rape you."

"Thanks, Arnold-o," She stated sarcastically, "but I can take care of myself. I almost beat you to death, remember?"

"Yeah. With a bag. That is such a great weapon against a gun or knife," Arnold replied equally as sarcastic.

"I have my fists, dummy-"

"She left me!" They heard a voice suddenly call from the dark alley next to them.

Arnold's eyes widened as he heard the drunken call, alarmed by the danger it posed. He grabbed Helga's arm and pushed her to start walking faster away from the darker areas of the street.

"Can you not? I'm not stupid. I know that I should walk faster, you-" Helga tried to argue.

"She left me!" The voice said louder, now emerging from the shadows, carrying an almost empty bottle of alcohol with a strange limp in his walk.

"Be quiet and walk faster, Helga," Arnold reprimanded seriously, worried for her safety, as they walked in quicker strides away from the isolated street.

"I know, Football-"

"You two! Come back here," the man drunkenly called running towards them.

Arnold turned and saw the advances of the drunken man towards them. Heart pounding, he took Helga's hand and ran towards the direction of the busier areas of the city. Helga said nothing and ran quickly with the boy. Eventually, the two reached Slausen's which was full of hungry people. Relieved that they had lost the man, the two sat exhaustedly in a booth as they camouflaged in the sea of faces.

A silence hovered over them in the noisy bustle of their surroundings as they watched each other pant in cold sweat across one another. The tension that had presided over them was thick, and neither knew what course of action was appropriate given the situation. Suddenly, the pair started laughing as the familiarity of their situation was realized in their minds.

"Wow, Hillwood reminds me so much of the jungle," Arnold chuckled.

"I know, right? You'd think that all the running away from the crazy would be left behind," Helga agreed, mindlessly giggling at the thought.

"You know this reminds me of a time when my dad and I pissed off a bunch of natives from the Mayorian tribe," He laughed, "we accidentally walked into their camp when we went on a hike by the waterfalls."

"Really? What happened?" She asked curiously.

"Oh, it was so bad. They thought we were poachers so they tried to cook us-"

Helga's amusement settled down as she listened to his story. She couldn't help but notice the excited glint in his eyes, and she realized this was the first time they had actually spoken about Arnold and his adventures during the five years he was gone. She couldn't help but feel self-centered for never having thought of his side of the story and only having focused their conversations on her and her problems. He had been so nice and selfless throughout the time he had been in America, and she couldn't help but admire his kindness. He hadn't changed much personality-wise.

"-and then my mom came and then-"

But he did change physically. She noticed the way his face had changed. She didn't realize how much lighter his hair had become, having been bleached by the sun for twelve hours a day for five years, and how much leathery his skin had become from being tanned. His eyes were still the same bright green eyes she remembered were so similar to the Green Eyes. His cheeks were decorated with two adorable dimples as he moved his mouth to speak. His neck had become skinnier, losing the baby fat she remembered adoring as a ten-year-old. He was very handsome, and she was understanding why many of the girls at school found him desirable.

She realized she was no longer paying attention to his story, and her heart sunk to the floor.

"And then they decided that they would cook Eduardo- hey, you okay?" Arnold stopped as he realized his companion was no longer looking at him in interest and was now sporting a strange look of surprise, "Are you hungry? We can order something."

She shook her head and slapped her forehead in frustration.

She was still completely in love with him.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

HOW BOW DAH?

I know what you're thinking: the main obstacle in the story is over, right? So now they can be together? Hm, maybe. Maybe not. I honestly haven't decided yet lmao. Besides, Helga still has stuff to deal with rmmbr? Her sister, grades, parents, social life, how tired she is, etc. Idk. I still have to iron this plot out. This chapter is pre-written so I hope that by the time I upload this I'll have something concrete. I (kind of) base a lot of this story on stuff that happens to me, and rn my life is pretty drama-less and boring (as I've said last week, dry as fuck). (EDIT: I FIGURED OUT WHAT I WANNA DO WITH THE STORY WOOOOH! s/o to the boy i've been flirting with for the past month lmao. he's actually taking the hint a little. also to the kid that fell out of a chair and pressed charges on the teacher (yeah crazy ikr). yalls have sparked some kinda inspo-sesh in me)

tl;dr: I'm an idiot.

 **Important** : Guys, please don't fight. It makes me feel bad around this hostility ;_;. It's my fault. I should have been more aware of other people's cultures. Please forgive me. Don't fight anymore pls T_T.

Anyway, leave a review (no more fighting guys :( pls) and make an author's day, favorite, and follow to find out the rest of the story. Love y'all.

-G


	6. Chapter Six

**Little Known Ways to Satisfaction - Chapter 6**

 _As they climbed up the mountain as fast as they could, the group realized that the lava flow was now pooling on the foot of the landscape, completely covering the lush forestry with molten rock all around the base of the hill, unable to rise up to their high altitude. They were safe._

 _"Oh, my God," Gerald panted, "I thought we were gonna die!"_

 _"I think I might faint," Phoebe replied._

 _"We're okay now, I think," Arnold said, "now, we'll just have to worry about how we're supposed to get back to the temple. The corazon needs to be protected."_

 _"Uh, Arnold?" Helga said, catching his attention. She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a small, golden heart. "I have it with me right now."_

* * *

Arnold was confused. He didn't know why Helga had suddenly simmered into silence as he was telling his story. Was it boring? One minute, they were laughing and telling stories, and the next, he's being gawked at like a deer in headlights by his companion. Was she insane? Maybe. But he hoped she would tell him if that was the case.

"Sorry for that wait. What can I get y'all?" A waitress asked, prepared with a pen and notebook.

"Uh," Arnold answered, turning to Helga who still was unresponsive, "we'll have two chocolate sundaes. No strawberries on one of them."

"Sounds great. I'll get it right out," The waitress answered, leaving them alone.

"You okay, Helga?" He asked again.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just feel kinda weird," She answered finally, "thanks for remembering my allergy."

"No problem," He replied, still unconvinced of her state of being, "I can take you home if you want."

"No, I'm fine. I don't wanna go home yet," She answered a little too eagerly.

"Okay, okay," He responded, deciding that she probably just didn't want to see to her family, "We can stay here for as long as you want."

"Okay. Thank you," She sputtered. "Continue your story. I wanna hear about everything."

Arnold continued his story hesitantly, but upon noticing Helga's increasingly redder face, he reached over to test her forehead temperature. Immediately, she jumped from her seat in surprise.

"What are you doing?" She questioned, the tips of her ears pink.

"You're getting redder, and I think you have a fever. I'm taking you home," He decided.

"No, Arnold. I'm fine. Continue your story," She insistantly countered.

Eyeing her slowly, he sighed and conceded, knowing that she wouldn't have listened to him anyway. Their orders arrived, and the two spent a few more hours in the bistro, telling tales from the jungle and reminiscing old memories. Eventually, they decided to wrap up, Arnold deciding to pay without consulting Helga ("I ordered without asking you."). He walked her home and bid her goodbye, making his way to his own home.

* * *

"Who throws a party on a Wednesday?"

Gerald shrugged. "Sid does."

"That's dumb," Harold hollered as he stuffed a handful of cheese puffs into his mouth, "we have a game tonight, too."

"I know. How the hell are we supposed to go to his damn party if we have a basketball game?" Lorenzo agreed.

"Well, I'm sure we can go after the game," Arnold suggested, "He must be throwing it to celebrate the game anyway."

"Uh, Arnold," Gerald interrupted, "are you forgetting that we have a Precalc test tomorrow?"

"Oh yeah," the blond replied, flinging a spoonful of mystery meat at Harold, "oh well, Sid can have his party by himself."

"But, guys, my parents are out of town," Sid reasoned, "do you know what the possibilities are?"

"Why don't you just have yer little party on Friday then, Sid?" Stinky suggested as he set his lunch tray down on the table.

"Because," Sid drawled, "they're coming back tomorrow."

"Man, can't you have a day without your parents without throwing a party?" Gerald muffled as he chewed on his crap burger.

"I could, but that's no fun at all," Sid complained, "come on, guys. I'll call some chicks from Hillwood Prep. It'll be lit. Come on."

Half the table stared at him disinterestedly as they all were in prospective relationships with other people already. The other half had their interest peaked slightly but not enough to fully commit to Sid's plans.

"Y'all can suck it. I'm gonna get me so much girls that you're gonna regret not coming to my house," Sid said in an act to persuade his friends.

"I'll go," Arnold said, causing his friend to perk up.

"Really, Arnold?" Sid asked excitedly, "See? Arnold knows what kinda high-quality babes I can give him."

"Arnold, what are you doing?" Gerald asked, elbowing the boy.

"I'll go," Arnold continued, pointing at a blonde girl sitting with her friend across the cafeteria, "if you can get Helga to come."

"Pataki? Seriously?" Sid complained, "She's never gonna do it! She won't do it if I say so."

"Then have your party by yourself."

Sid stubbornly crossed his arms, adamant in keeping his stance; however, upon seeing his companions' unmoving demeanors, he gave up with a loud groan, sloppily making his way to the scary girl. He had to admit; after years of torment from the girl, he was still terrified of her even if it has been long since she had stopped being a bully.

"Hey, Helga," He greeted nervously. Phoebe and Lila both smiled at him politely as he approached their table, and Helga boredly turned around from her chair, giving him an eerily stoic expression.

"What?" The taller girl asked.

"Me and the guys," Sid started, pointing back to his table where his friends were watching interestedly at the interaction. Helga looked over at them and saw that most of the boys had looked away except for Arnold who gave her a small wave. "were wondering if you," he coughed upon realizing that Phoebe and Lila were there, "Phoebe and Lila would be willing to come to my party tonight."

Helga cocked an eyebrow as she saw the guys behind Sid slice their necks with their fingers and form x's with their arms, save Arnold who was just smiling at her. "It seems that your friends don't want us there, Sid."

"What?" He asked turning around. Instantly, the boys stopped their actions as they saw his glaring. "Forget them. They want you there, trust me."

"I actually might be able to, Sid," Lila responded.

"Yeah, Lila, sounds great," Sid answered disinterestedly, "and you Helga?"

"I'm flattered you invited me, Sid," Phoebe responded, interrupting Sid's sudden interest in her friend, "however, it is a school night and I'm not really one for the party scene."

"That's okay, Phoebe," He answered half-heartedly in annoyance, "what about you Helga? What do you think? Can you please come, please?"

Helga stared at him, trying to figure out his motive. Her eyes kept fluttering over to the rest of the boys, who looked anxious, and to Arnold, who didn't seem to care very much except to smile at her boyishly, making her heart flutter.

"I agree with Phoebe," She answered, ignoring the heat rushing to her cheeks, "I have a lot of homework to do, and the guys' game doesn't end until really late, and I kinda wanna watch."

"Oh, come on," Sid pleaded, "please, Helga? I need you there."

"Why?" She asked, kind of weirded out at his strange fixation on her.

"Arnold said he'd go if you went," He whined.

Her stomach did the flips at the mention of his name, but she didn't really want to go to the stupid party. Plus, she didn't know if she could control herself alone with Arnold, especially at a party after the last time she was at Sid's house. "Tell him he can stay at home because I'm not going to your party."

"Please, Helga?" He begged.

"I really don't want to," She answered, shooing him away.

"Come on!" He whined.

"If you don't leave in three seconds, I'm gonna punch you in the face," She threatened irately.

"Helga-"

"One!"

"Leaving," He responded immediately, leaving the three girls laughing at how pathetic the boy was.

Sid dejectedly went back to the table, moping and upset at the result of the confrontation. The boys snickered at Sid's failure. Arnold didn't acknowledge Sid and instead waited for Helga to reciprocate his greetings, but she had averted her gaze down at his shoes.

"Come on, guys," Sid whined some more as he moped into his seat, "please come? I thought you guys were my friends."

"Hm, who says?" Gerald asked sarcastically.

"Asshole," Sid replied, playfully punching the raven-haired boy on the arm.

"At least I don't look like one."

Arnold attempted to wave his hand over at Helga again, but still she maintained her gaze on the floor. He felt bummed. He thought they had gotten closer, but it seems their relationship had regressed again. He wondered what he had said again that made her act that way.

"Oh, yeah? Well, at least I- I-" Sid stuttered, trying to think of a good comeback as he wrestled the bigger boy.

"Mhm," Gerald hummed as he rolled his eyes, easily pushing Sid off of him.

Still, Arnold wondered; what had he done this time?

* * *

Helga watched carefully as Arnold was sent out into the court to play. The cheerleaders were excitedly cheering on the team, and the stands were full of people wearing their respective school colors.

They were playing against Westbrook High, a school that was reknowned for their superior athletic programs. It was a miracle that the game was close with 70-73, Westbrook's favor. There was only one minute left on the clock, and the fourth quarter was coming to an end. These sixty seconds were detrimental to whether or not the team makes it to state.

"Come on, Gerald!" Phoebe cheered as the boy stole the ball from the opponent and was now running across the court to shoot.

The crowd started getting rowdier as the boy got closer and closer to the hoop. Gerald jumped to dunk it, but he was suddenly tackled to the floor by a member on the opposite team, crushing him on the floor and twisting his ankle. The crowd was silenced as the referees blew their whistles and the medics ran towards him. Phoebe gasped and quickly ran down the bleachers to go after her boyfriend.

Helga gasped, seeing Gerald's very swollen foot as he walked off the court. The refs ordered two free throws. Arnold was given the ball. The boys all lined up around him as he dribbled the ball, preparing to shoot. Helga's heart started pounding. He shoots, and he makes it. Score goes up 71-73. He shoots again, making the score go up once more to 72-73. Clock starts. There's less than fifty seconds left.

A redhead from Westbrook was sprinting across the court with the ball, but Stinky and Iggy were on his tracks. Distracted by the two boys, the redhead didn't realize Harold was behind him and had lost the ball. Arnold ran closer to Harold and caught the ball as Harold passed it to him. Less than thirty seconds on the clock.

Arnold quickly ran back to his appropriate hoop, avoiding his opponents as they tried to block him. He shoots the ball. No time on the clock. It circles the rim. Everyone's quiet. Helga started biting her nails.

"Come on, Arnold. Do it for state!" A guy screamed next to her, to which she restrained herself from laughing nervously.

He makes it, and the Hillwood Tigers win the match at 74-73. The crowd roars, and the students from the bleachers ran down to the court and celebrated the team. Helga remained in her seat, smiling brightly as she beamed with pride. She released a breath she didn't realize she was holding. This game was very stressful.

Eventually, the crowd dissipated as most of the guys' team left. Helga stayed seated, not wanting to be squished in the crowd, before finally going down to where Gerald, Phoebe, and Arnold were sitting as Gerald was patched up by the Sports Medic. Phoebe looked extra concerned for her boyfriend, but the boy seemed to be looking well as he laughed while he talked with Arnold.

"Hey, guys," She greeted, "nice job out there," she looked shyly at the blond boy's face, "Especially you Arnold. Really good job."

"Thanks, Helga," He thanked excitedly as a grin that shone brighter than the sun stretched across his face.

"You gotta teach me how you do those free throws at one point," She replied.

"Aw, man, he's just gonna say some bullshit like 'be the ball' or something," Gerald groaned.

"Hey, it got us to win the game so shut up," Arnold replied, rolling his eyes.

"I give you that," The taller boy conceded.

Phoebe giggled but a look of worry was still on her face. Gerald noticed her nervous composure and put his hand over hers, reassuring her that everything was gonna be okay. She smiled weakly at him as the Sports Medic finished up and left. There were only a handful of people left in the gym. Otherwise, they were by themselves.

"So," Gerald started, placing his feet on the ground, "y'all feel like going to Sid's dumbass party?"

"Nah," Helga answered, "how about we go to Slausen's for some burgers instead?"

"I agree with that statement," Phoebe chimed, "but I don't know if you should, Gerald. You're injured."

"This is nothing, Pheebs," He waved off, "Jamie O once broke my nose and kept it a secret from my parents for two weeks. Now, come on."

The teens decided to take Gerald's car with Phoebe driving. Helga was seated in the back with Arnold, awkwardly trying to make conversation.

"Uh," She said, "nice job out there tonight, Arnold. You really saved our asses."

"Thanks, Helga," He thanked, subtly inching his hand towards hers, "I'm glad you feel that way."

Noticing his actions, she decided to look away as she felt his finger intertwined with hers and eventually his entire hand with hers. Feeling heat in her cheeks, she forced herself to calm down, watching the bright lights in the city blur by as the car moved to distract herself from the overwhelming feelings bubbling in her chest.

They reached the food shop. Helping Gerald out of the car, Phoebe trailed after Helga and Arnold. The shop was packed, full of people from the game. They were lucky enough to find themselves a booth enough to fit them. The boys started engaging in mindless conversation about basketball while the girls looked over the menus to figure out what they wanted. The waitress arrived, took their orders, and returned to the kitchen.

"Seriously, man," Gerald said, "if you play like this for the rest of the season, we are set. Set for state."

"Nah, that's too much," Arnold answered, humbled by the compliment.

"No, seriously, Arnold. You could get a scholarship," Gerald enthused.

"I agree, Arnold," Phoebe chimed, "I'm not one as a sports fanatic, but you definitely are very good."

"Come on, guys," He responded bashfully.

Helga playfully rolled her eyes. "Just face it, Football Head. You're really good."

"Oh, yeah? Well, you're really pretty," He retorted to which the girl rolled her eyes once more, "and really smart, and talented, and crazy good at basketball, and amazing."

Helga playfully hit his shoulder in embarrassment while Gerald pointed a finger in his mouth, pretending to gag, and Phoebe giggling excitedly at the banter between the two.

"Bleh," Gerald groaned, "get a room."

"Shut up," Helga scowled as she forced back a blush.

The four teens continued on with their conversation, drifting from college to school to athletics. Their food had arrived, and they enjoyed the meal wholly. They were in the middle of a conversation when Arnold's phone suddenly lit up, notifying him that someone was calling him. It was Sid.

"Hey, Sid's calling," Arnold announced amusedly.

"Answer it. I bet his party's getting lame and wants us to come," Gerald laughed.

"Hello?" Arnold answered, expecting Sid's drunken gloating about how great his party was.

"Arnold," He heard a voice sob. Immediately, his smile fell as his heart sunk to his stomach. Something was very wrong.

"Sid? What's wrong?" He asked anxiously. His three other companions had noticed the change in the tone of his voice and leaned in to hear the rest of the conversation.

"It's- I- She-" Sid sobbed sloppily. He had been drinking.

"Calm down, buddy. What's wrong?" Arnold asked again, getting even more worried.

"Lila. She- she's messed up, Arnold. And it's all my fault," Sid answered, crying over the phone.

"What? What are you talking about?" Arnold questioned with an alarmed voice.

"She- I was just- We're at Hillshire Hospital. Please come." The line went dead.

The three teens who were trying their best to eavesdrop anxiously watched Arnold for a proper answer.

"Sid's at the hospital with Lila, and he's saying that she's messed up or whatever. We have to go. Now."

* * *

When Arnold saw Sid curled up on the floor in the ER next to a payphone with bruises and bandages all over his body, he nearly had a heart attoack.

"Sid, what the heck happened?" Arnold asked concernedly.

"Lila- She- Some guy," Sid hiccuped, "Some guy put something in her drink, so I made him leave," he took a deep breath, "but she had already drank it, so I decided to take her home in my car, but I didn't see it, Arnold. You gotta believe me."

"See what?" Arnold asked, terrified deep inside with what had happened with his friends.

"I had a few drinks and I- I didn't realize I was driving on the wrong side of the road, and there was a huge truck, and now Lila's not waking up, and they're operating on her, and it's all my fault, and- and- Why didn't I just listen to you?" Sid cried.

Arnold didn't know what to say. He was at a loss for words- rendered speechless. He felt mad, and sad, and scared. Helga was beside him, holding his hand tightly, while Phoebe and Gerald were on the other side of Sid, watching him worriedly.

"Take a deep breath, Sid," Helga tried to soothe, crouching down to the sobbing boy's level, "Lila's a fighter. She's not gonna give up easy."

"I think so, too, Sid," Phoebe agreed unsurely, mimicking Helga's moves, "you were... only trying to help."

Arnold was angry. He was mad at Sid for throwing that stupid party. He was mad that some guy had put something in his friend's drink. He was mad that Sid was too shallow to think about the consequences of driving drunk. Most of all, he was mad at himself, because he should have been there. He could've stopped it all if only he wasn't so selfish.

Helga winced at Arnold's grip on her hand started getting tighter and tighter. This brought the boy back to reality, releasing her hand and calming down. Gerald limped around Sid and placed a comforting hand on Arnold's shoulder, understanding his best friend's probable train of thought.

"Have you called her father?" Phoebe asked the crying boy. He shook his head no. "That's okay. I'll call him."

The small girl got up and stepped outside to call Lila's father with the limping boy trailing slowly behind her. Helga was still trying to comfort Sid, giving the boy a hug and a shoulder to cry on. Arnold had resorted to punching the wall in his frustration.

"You better step outside, young man," a doctor ordered, "I can't have you wrecking havoc around my patients."

"Come on, Arnold. Don't do this here," Helga muttered in his ear as she got up and grabbed Arnold's arm, trying her best to calm him down. She led him to the waiting room for the OR and sat him down on the chair as he buried his face in his hands shamefully. She took a seat next to him and hugged him tightly.

"I should have been there, Helga," He mumbled.

"You can't blame yourself," She answered, "we all could have been there, but it wasn't your fault."

"I could have stopped it."

"And I could have, too. But, we didn't. We were having fun by ourselves," She countered, "it's not your fault that Sid was too drunk to realize he was driving on the wrong side of the road."

"But-"

"Shh," she shushed, "we all could have done something differently, but it's not gonna make anything better if we keep thinking about the things we could have done differently."

Arnold sighed, knowing that she was right, and leaned back on the chair. "You're too smart."

"I know," She joked, trying to lighten up his mood, "now, calm yourself. We just gotta think positive. Lila's gonna be okay."

"Where is she?!" They heard a man yell as the doors to the hospital swung open, "Where's my daughter?!"

"It's her dad," Helga whispered, getting up to approach the man she recognized as Lila's father.

"Sir, please-" the receptionist tried to say.

"It's okay," Helga told the worker as she turned to the older man, "Mr. Sawyer, she's still in the OR."

"The OR?! What the fuck happened to Lila?!" He screamed at Helga, grabbing her by the shoulders, "What did you do to her?!"

Immediately, Arnold sprung to his feet and got in between Mr. Sawyer and Helga, covering the girl protectively.

"Excuse me, Mr. Sawyer," He glared threateningly, "I understand that you're upset, but please don't touch my girlfriend like that."

The older man seemed to have calmed down a bit at the shock of being reprimanded. He took a deep breath and apologized.

"I'm sorry. You're right," He responded apprehensively, "but will someone please tell me what's going on?"

"I will," Helga coughed, recovering from Arnold's terminology to reference her as, "let's go sit over there," she said as she pointed to where they were originally seated.

The two teens managed to explain to the middle-aged man what the current situation was, effectively infuriating him as he realized that her daughter had, not only been at a party with alcohol and other illegal substances, but was drugged and driven by a drunk teenager.

"Who is this Sid?" He questioned, "I'm gonna kill him!"

"Please calm down, Mr. Sawyer," Arnold begged, "He was only trying to help. Some guy from Hillwood Prep was the one that drugged her."

"I wanna kill both of 'em! They're the reason why my little girl is in there with her life on the line!" He hollered angrily.

"I understand why you're upset, but they're just teenagers," Helga reasoned, fidgeting her fingers uncomfortably, "we tend to do stupid things."

"But Lila isn't stupid. She isn't like you," Mr. Sawyer replied spitefully, "She would never have done something like this back in the country. It's because of you stupid kids influencing her," he shook his head, "I outta tell your parents about this."

Helga hummed as she realized that she probably should call her parents as it was ten past midnight and they (well, Olga) must be staying up late waiting for her. Arnold realized the same, feeling anxious as he remembered the last talk he had with his parents.

"You go first, Football Head," Helga said, noticing Arnold's nervousness at both calling his parents and leaving her alone with a very angry man, "I think Phoebe and Gerald are gonna come soon."

Arnold nodded his head and stepped outside to notify his parents of his whereabouts. Helga was left alone with Mr. Sawyer in the waiting room. She realized that he had striking similarities to her friend. They both had the same brown hair and big green eyes. They both had the country vibe around them, and had the same mannerisms. She was saddened as the realization of Lila's current state dawned on her.

"I'm sure," She started, "I'm sure she's going to be fine, Mr. Sawyer."

The man's demeanor immediately cracked into a look of pure heartbreak. "I hope so, too. My God, I hope so."

They saw a doctor in scrubs exit the OR, swinging the doors as he did so. He looked stoic, maintaining a professional face. The older man immediately got up and came up to him with Helga following in suit.

"Are you the patient, Lila Sawyer's, guardian?" The doctor asked.

"Yes," Mr. Sawyer answered nervously.

"Your daughter suffered major trauma to her chest and punctured a lung," the doctor explained, raising the tension in Helga's stomach, "she also broke her pelvic bone and suffered a concussion."

"Is she okay, Doc?" Mr. Sawyer blurted out impatiently.

"We were able to stop the internal bleeding and stitch her up," the doctor replied, "she's currently stable. Only time will tell when she will wake up."

"But she's alive?" Helga asked, tearing up as the fear of losing Lila crept in her thoughts.

The doctor turned to her and nodded. "Yes, she is alive."

"Oh, thank the Lord," Mr. Sawyer gasped, totally relieved.

Arnold entered the building again and saw Helga and Mr. Sawyer with the doctor and felt anxious as he walked up to them.

"Hey, what'd I miss?" He asked.

"She's alive, Arnold!" Helga answered excitedly, wrapping her arms around his neck. Arnold released a breath of air he had been holding for God knows how long and reciprocated the girl's embrace.

"I'm so relieved," He said.

"How long will she have to stay here for, Doc?" Mr. Sawyer asked, nervously twisting his cap between his hands.

"It's hard to tell at this point," the doctor replied.

"I don't- I don't think I can afford-" Mr. Sawyer sighed, "thank you, Doctor. Truly. For saving my daughter. I can't thank you enough."

The doctor nodded courteously and walked away. The two teenagers were still hugging until Arnold noticed the forlorn look on the older man's face. He let go of Helga, slightly surprising her, and approached the man.

"Are you still scared?" He asked.

"Of course I am," the man answered, "medical bills are expensive, and I can't afford to pay for it all."

Arnold was rendered quiet. He had forgotten about Lila's financial situation. It's just that she had been so cheery and optimistic that it was hard to picture her in such a difficult situation.

"I'm sure it will all work out, Mr. Sawyer. I'm sure of it," Arnold tried to comfort.

"You're a good boy, Arnold," the older man responded, "I can see why my Lila was always keen on you."

Arnold laughed uncomfortably as Helga approached them. He put his arm around her shoulder awkwardly, making her stare at him strangely. "Of course," He chuckled weirdly, "she even helped me and I my girlfriend get together."

There that word was again. Helga squinted her eyes at him suspiciously (what was up with that lie?) and opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off the by the older man.

"Well, I reckon that you two should be getting home. Y'all have school tomorrow if I remember. I'll stay with my Lila."

"Sounds great, Mr. Sawyer. We'll keep in touch," Arnold answered, quickly leading Helga out the hospital, texting Gerald to get their ride home.

"What was that about?" Helga questioned, "since when was I your girlfriend?"

"Oh, that," He scoffed, "that was just something to get him to back off."

"How? That doesn't make any sense," Helga replied.

"Not really," He answered, "I mean, _technically,_ we are still dating."

"What are you talking about?" She asked, completely baffled.

"We never broke up from when we were twelve," He answered as a matter of fact.

"Yes, we did," Helga insisted, unsure of what exactly he was referencing.

"No, we didn't," Arnold argued, "this year is technically our fifth year of dating."

"We broke up, Arnold," She fought surely. She broke up with him... right?

"No, we didn't," He responded bitterly, "you just never answered my letters," She was rendered silent as a look of hurt spread on his face, "which, by the way, you still owe me an explanation to."

She opened her mouth to say something but she was cut off when Phoebe and Gerald pulled up to the front of the hospital to pick them up.

"I can explain," She whispered shamefully.

"Not right now," He answered dismissively, "there's too many things going on. We'll talk about it later. I'm sure... I'm sure there was a logical reason, so I won't hold it against you."

She was guilty. She had never heard such a cold answer from Arnold since he had gotten back.

The ride home had been awkward. Arnold and Helga didn't speak. Phoebe and Gerald had filled the silence by explaining their whereabouts during the time Mr. Sawyer had arrived. They were allowed to stay in the ER to try and calm Sid down, but the boy wouldn't stop screaming and shaking so he had to be sedated. They were finally allowed to leave after the doctor assured them that he was going to be okay.

Arnold had politely responded appropriately to their story, but Helga couldn't stop staring at him guiltily, wishing so badly she could explain to him her cowardice for not sending any letters back to him throughout the entire time he was gone.

The car pulled up in front of Helga's house. She thanked Phoebe and Gerald for the ride and bid Arnold good night, to which the boy merely nodded in response, barely smiling that she wouldn't have realized he had done it had she not examined his face closely. She felt bad at his answer and entered her house with a heavy heart.

She put her coat up on the coatrack and realized that the TV was still on, and Olga was still awake waiting for her. She had forgotten to call.

"Oh, Helga," Her sister greeted, approaching Helga, "how was the game?"

"Fine," Helga answered disinterestedly. She started to make her way up to the stairs, but Olga had quickly caught up to her and grabbed the end of her shirt.

"Wait," Olga stopped, "can we talk, please?"

"Olga, I'm really tired, and I-"

"Please," The older girl begged, "If- If we talk, I'll... I'll leave earlier if you still want me to."

Helga was tired. She still had some homework left, she still needed to think about Lila, and she still needed to figure out a way to get Arnold to listen to her side of the story regarding the letters. And here Olga, wide eyed and sad, was gripping the end of her shirt, begging her to listen to what she had to say. She sighed. There just wasn't such a thing as a break when it comes to her life.

"Alright," Helga mumbled, "let's talk."

She guessed antiderivatives could wait.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Hi friennddss!

I hope y'alls had a good week. I had a pretty rollercoaster of a semana yo. First, I had a small Christmas party thing at my house since my parents were out of town. We went to this Holiday-Winter thing in town. That didn't end until 10:30, so our party was helllaaa late. We didn't get to sleep until like 2:30 in the morning. And then we all had to wake up at 6:00 because we had a Spanish field trip by 8:00, so I drove with three and a half hours of sleep, hungover and hungry. We did make it alive though. But wait! There's more. Our bus broke down halfway to the place we were supposed to go to in the middle of nowhere. Boom. Officially worst day ever right? Well, not really. We (all 47 of us) went to Goodwill and had a shopping spree. What a way to go, huh? Bummy part is that we had to take another bus back home and never really ended up going to the place cause we missed all of our tours hahaha. Anyway, how was your weekend?

I hope you liked the chapter. Leave a review and a follow and tell me what you think! I feel super excited about where I'm heading towards with this story and I can't wait for you guys to read what I have in store.

-G


	7. Chapter Seven

**Little Known Ways to Satisfaction - Chapter 7**

 _"How did you get that?" Arnold asked, eyes wide in surprise._

 _"After the earthquake, it fell on the ground and rolled near the temple entrance so I grabbed it before we ran," Helga explained._

 _Arnold still couldn't believe that the relic was in their possession, safe and sound. His eyes fluttered up and down from the golden heart and Helga's meek face in shock. Their two other companions were still trying to catch their breath, exhausted from their run up the mountain._

 _"You- You are amazing!" Arnold exclaimed, hugging the girl tightly._

 _"It's, uh, okay, Arnold," She whispered embarrassedly, awkwardly patting his back._

 _"Great," Phoebe wheezed, "now, we only have to figure out how to return it to the temple."_

 _"There," pant, "is," pant, "no way that I," wheeze, "am running through lava!" Gerald exclaimed._

* * *

"So," Helga said awkwardly, "what do you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, Helga," Olga answered, looking down on her fingers in shame, "I am so sorry for reading your journal. I was just trying to help you out by cleaning your room, but it fell off the shelf and I saw my name and, well-"

"It's... okay, Olga," Helga sighed, "Maybe I overreacted a bit, too. I'm sorry."

"No, Helga, don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong," the older girl stated, "Actually, I'm sorry for everything."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is... I know our parents aren't the easiest to be around. Especially when it comes to you," Olga answered shamefully, "and most of the reason for that is because of me."

"That's not true, Olga," Helga lied.

The older Pataki shook her head. "It's true. Helga, I'm not as oblivious as I show myself as. I... I know you've had a hard time with them, but I ignored it. I ignored it on purpose. And those poems you wrote to me? You were right."

"Olga, I wrote those when I was ten-"

"No, I need you to listen," She interrupted, grabbing her little sister's hand, "I tried to pretend that everything was okay. That maybe, somehow, our parents will treat us the same way if I just ignored it. They never did, and you've had to suffer for what I've done."

Helga scratched her cheek uncomfortably. She wasn't used to being patronized.

"I know you think that I'm our parents' favorite because they talk about the stuff I do a lot. The truth is," Olga took a deep breath, "the reason why I work so hard and do so much isn't to impress them or take their attention from you. It's to keep me from coming back here."

Helga's eyes widened in surprise at her sister's confession. She had always been under the impression that her sister wanted to be around their parents so much because they showered her with praise and attention, but it was just the opposite. "So, then why do you act as if you're so happy to see them when you're home?"

"Oh, Helga," Olga mumbled, "life isn't black and white like that. They're still my parents and I'll always miss them when I'm not home. I spent eighteen years of my life with them in this house. But it doesn't change what they did."

"What did they ever do to you? All they've done is praise you. "Olga this" and "Olga that." You have no idea what it's like living in your shadow," Helga countered, anger lacing her voice. Olga was rendered speechless for a few seconds.

"When I was a kid, they made me take piano lessons, ballet lessons, soccer, extra tutoring outside of school, croquet - literally every single class they found they would make me take. I was under so much pressure from day one to be this perfect child," she replied quietly, "then you were born, and I felt so relieved."

"Relieved?" Helga asked.

"Yes, Helga, relieved. I thought that, finally, I would have someone to share some of the responsibility. But that didn't happen, and all they did was focus on me still, and that isn't fair to you at all," Olga said.

Helga felt tears well up in her eyes, but she pushed them back down. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because I want you to know that even if mom and dad don't know very much about you, I do. And I am so proud of you," Olga gushed. "I have always been proud of you. From the moment you got the highest grade in English when you were in third grade, I always made sure to know what you were up to."

"Olga," Helga said softly. Olga got up and hugged her sister tightly.

"I love you, Helga. And our parents love you, too. They just have a hard time getting rid of old habits," Olga whispered.

"Yeah, they've been trying for sixteen years," Helga laughed sarcastically. Olga patted her back softly before returning to her seat.

"I know we don't get along very often, and that's just cause our personalities aren't very compatible," She started, "or maybe there's hostility between us because of our circumstances, but, I know that we do have things in common like... English. I was really good at that."

"Really, now?" Helga asked flatly, but for once, it wasn't out of spite but of playful teasing.

"Mhm," Olga chimed, "but I was never good enough to be published like you were, Helga."

The younger girl's eyes grew wide. "How did-"

"I told you. I kept tabs on you, Baby Sister," Olga laughed. Helga smiled, but quickly lost it as she felt the night's events truly weigh in her heart.

"Olga," She said seriously, "tonight, my friend almost died."

"What?" Olga responded with her voice raised in surprise, "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm okay. It's Lila-"

"My Lil' Sis?!" Olga exclaimed. Helga shushed her, reminding her that their parents were upstairs sleeping. "What happened to her?"

"Some asshole drugged her at a party," the younger girl explained, "and Sid, being a dumbass as always, decided to be a gentleman and drive her home drunk. He didn't realize he was driving on the wrong side of the road, and... well, you can figure out the rest."

"You didn't answer me, Helga. Is Lila okay?" Olga sobbed, her mascara running down her face.

"She wasn't, but she is now. The doctor said that at this point, it's up to her whether or not she wants to come back," Helga said sadly, trying her best to fight back her own tears as she watched her sister break down. Just the thought of Lila dying made her want to vomit.

"We-we have to see her, Helga!"

"We will. Just," Helga coughed her tears down, "Just not right now. It's one-thirty in the morning."

* * *

Arnold's mood wasn't the best that Friday morning. He never really felt the excitement most other kids got when the last weekday approached. Everything bad just always seemed to happen on a Friday. For example, his parents left him on a Friday back when he was a baby; it was also when Helga's plane left San Lorenzo five years ago. As a matter of fact, his maternal grandparents died in a house fire on a Friday, too.

To summarize, Fridays are bad for Arnold.

This particular Friday, he was moping around the halls for half the day, worried about Lila and Sid. He couldn't erase the memory of seeing his happy-go-lucky friend reduced to a sobbing mess on the hospital floor. He couldn't erase the thought of the Lila he loved so much to be hospitalized, on the verge of death. He couldn't erase the thought that if he had gone to Sid's stupid party, then none of this would have happened. He was part of the blame, and he couldn't forgive himself for that.

At lunch, his friends were all bummed out at the lack of appearance of their leather jacketed friend, but they weren't as upset as he was. They tried to console each other, and they remained mostly silent throughout their meal. Many of the students who were used to their boisterous behavior had looked and stared at them, wondering what had gotten into the group. It was especially strange because they were the very group that had won the basketball game the night prior, so they expected some sort of big celebration.

"So," Stinky said, breaking the silence, "are y'alls gonna visit Lila and Sid tonight?"

"Uh, yeah," Lorenzo answered, "Sid just got out of the hospital, so I'm gonna stop by at his place after school."

"Really? Then, I'll do the same," Iggy agreed.

The rest of the boys agreed to meet up at Sid's house to make him feel better. Arnold grumbled in response as he stared down at his untouched food. Gerald nudged him worriedly.

"Come on, Arnold," The taller boy said, "they'll be alright."

"Yeah..." Arnold replied, trailing off.

Helga couldn't help but worry as she looked over at the boys' table. Arnold had been especially depressed about the whole situation, and she couldn't help but be anxious about his state of mind. She wanted to go over to where he was and console him, but she decided not to, thinking that he should be able to talk about it with his own friends. Besides, she knew he was still mildly upset at her for those letters she never sent. He barely said anything to her during English class. She missed Lila. The girl would have given her some pretty good advice right about now.

Sighing, Helga picked on her broccoli. Phoebe looked at her friend in concern, worried about her the same way the girl was worried about Arnold. Even the smaller girl felt anxious about Lila's absence, but she knew that it wasn't really anything they could do about now. They just had to live their lives as normal, and it sucked. It felt as though their lives had completely changed and that they should focus on this one thing, but school was still real, and they still had to do their homework and be perfect little students. Placing a hand on her abdomen, she took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to worry about other things.

"Oh, Helga," Phoebe called, "please don't be so upset. I'm sure everything's going to work out."

"I don't know, Pheebs," Helga answered unsurely, "it feels weird not having Lila around."

"I know. It is strange. But, we have to think positive. It won't help Lila if we mope around."

"I'm worried about her dad," Helga said, grumbling.

"Why?" The smaller girl asked curiously.

"'Cause they're _poor,_ Phoebe," She exasperated, "They can't afford to keep Lila in the hospital. If... If she gets cut off, she's gone."

Phoebe was quiet. She had forgotten about the Sawyer's financial situation. When they were freshmen, they had a sleepover at Lila's house. It was still the same, rickety old apartment she lived in back when they were in fourth grade. They were a lot more stable after Mr. Sawyer had gotten the job as a manager down at the supermarket, but they were, at all means, nowhere near comfortable. Phoebe remembered lying on Lila's creaky floor in her sleeping bag, seeing how broken down and whithered the flooring was. The brunette was so happy and optimistic that it seemed so unnatural for Phoebe to see her living in such a state.

They had talked that night about their dreams and their lives. Phoebe talked about her desire to attend Harvard and how she wanted to go to Japan with her parents one day. Helga talked about how she didn't really know what to do excpet to get as far away from Hillwood as possible. And Lila... well, Lila didn't really say anything. The girl seemed content with her life. She did say that she wished her father didn't have to work so hard, but other than that she was okay.

That night, they found out that her mother passed away because of some disease. Around that time, Lila's old farm wasn't making enough money to support her mother's medical bills, so they had to sell it. Her mom died anyway, and they had no choice but to move to Hillwood, the closest city from Pleasantsville. As far as Phoebe knew, they were still buried in debt.

"What's her dad going to do?" Helga asked, slepping her forehead.

For once, Phoebe had no answer to the question.

* * *

"Sid?"

The opening of the door managed to break light into the dark room. It was difficult to see, but Arnold could vaguely make out Sid's silhouette curled up in a fetal position on his bed. The boy still had bandages all over his body, his eyes were bloodshot and decorated with dark bags, and his lips were cracked and bloody. He looked like a wreck.

"Hey, buddy," Gerald greeted softly, approaching Sid, "how are you feeling?"

"Guys?" Sid mumbled, looking up from his crouched position.

"Hey, man," Harold greeted, bouncing on Sid's bed.

"We came by to see you, Sid," Arnold explained, "How are you holding up?"

"I-I'm good," the boy answered shakily, "I mean, I'm kinda grounded for life," Sid joked pathetically.

Arnold chuckled humorlessly. The rest of the boys entered the room, cheerily greeting Sid in an attempt to make him feel better. They stayed there for an hour or so, talking about school and how everything wasn't as bad at it seemed. Slowly, one by one, they left until only Arnold and Gerald were left with the boy.

"I'll give you a minute," Gerald said, leaving the room. Arnold nodded gratefully.

"Hey, Sid," Arnold smiled. Sid had reciprocated the smile sadly. The visit from his friends had made him feel better, but his mind and body still hurt like hell.

"How is she, Arnold?" He asked the blond.

"I haven't seen her since last night, but she was stable before we left," Arnold answered, taking a seat next to him.

"Oh, boy. I messed up real bad, didn't I?" He grumbled, burying his face in his hands.

"It's..." Arnold sighed, "You were only trying to help her. You saved her from that guy."

"Yeah, I saved her from getting raped by getting her killed. I'm worse than the other guy, Arnold!" Sid exclaimed woefully.

"That's ridiculous," Arnold interjected, "you did a good thing. Albeit, it wasn't the best idea in the world, but you stopped her from getting hurt, and I know Lila will appreciate that when you tell her once she wakes up."

" _If_ she wakes up," Sid shook his head.

"It's not all your fault, Sid. I should've just gone to your party. I would've been able to help you," Arnold replied.

Sid squinted his eyes at the boy. "Are you serious? Are you really blaming yourself for this, Arnold?"

"Well-" Arnold started.

" _I_ was the one that threw the party even though everyone told me not to," Sid yelled angrily as tears started to well in his eyes, " _I_ was the one that drove drunk. _I_ was the one that messed up, Arnold. _So, don't think for one moment that you're responsible for this!_ "

"Sid, I-" Arnold tried to explain in shock at the boy's sudden outburst.

"I already have so much on my plate right now, and you can't make me feel worse by telling me that I made you feel responsible for something I did!" Sid cried, "I did this to her, Arnold. I did this to myself. I don't want to do anything to you. I don't wanna hurt anyone anymore."

Arnold stared anxiously at his companion, watching him cry and degrade into a sobbing mess. He hadn't taken into account what Sid was feeling. He supposed that his friend was right, but it didn't make him feel any better about the whole situation. He didn't know what else to do, but to pull his friend into an embrace.

"I'm sorry, Sid," He apologized.

Sid just sat there and cried.

* * *

Helga huffed as she threw herself back into her chair. They lost the game 30-68. She wasn't able to focus as much as she tried. Her body was doing one thing, playing the game and trying not to get trampled by six-foot tall high school girls, but her mind was doing another, wondering where Arnold was and praying for Lila's recovery. It was reflected in her performance on the court, and she just knew that she was going to get an earful from the coach and an entire week's worth of dirty looks from the girls.

"Pataki, what the hell were you doing out there?" Coach Marshall yelled, "You blew a twenty-point lead!"

"Sorry, Coach," Helga muttered. The rest of the girls and some of the crowd started staring.

"What the hell is going on with you? Did your boyfriend break up with you, huh?" The coach ranted, "We were so close, kid!"

"I'm sorry, Coach," was all Helga's reply. She was too tired to offer any explanation.

Coach Marshall sighed, seeing how the girl was completely unwanting to respond. Something must be going on, but she didn't want him any part of her business, and he had to respect that. Shaking his head, he told the Helga and the other girls they could leave.

Helga was surprised that he was letting her go that easy, and so did the rest of the team. The other girls quickly scrambled out the gym, while Helga started to pack up.

"You know, kid," Coach Marshall said as he picked up some remaining equipment around the court, "you can tell me anything that's going on. It might make it easier to let it out. I am still technically a teacher."

"Thanks, Coach," Helga said before going out the door without another word, leaving the older man alone in the gym.

It was snowing, just a little bit. She started to make her way to the hospital, wanting to visit Lila. The streets were dimly lit, and she was reminded of the night when she and Arnold were chased down by a drunk man. She felt insecurity and her heart started pounding. Securing her coat around her, she started walking faster. She wished Arnold was there.

Quickly enough, she managed to reach the building without a scratch. She made her way to the front desk and, after asking which room, went to Lila's semi-private room. There was an old lady on a bed next to Lila. She was casually flipping through the channels while (what looked to be) her brown-haired teenage grandson sat next to the bed on his phone. Her arrival to the room caused both to look at her. Smiling slightly in acknowledgment, she quickly made her way to Lila's side of the curtain where Mr. Sawyer was asleep.

Placing a hand on the foot of Lila's bed, she sighed. The girl looked absolutely terrible. She had a black eye, bruises, cuts, and a cast around her hips. But, she looked peaceful. Her hair had been tied up into a bun by one of the nurses. Her eyes were closed as if she was just asleep. Helga wished the girl was only asleep.

She spent a few minutes just whispering to herself some things she had wanted to say to Lila, and just mentally prayed for a better situation for her friend. It was difficult to see someone she loved so much be put in such a state.

"Are you a friend of this little girl?" She heard an old voice cackle from the other side of the curtain.

"Uh, yes," Helga answered alertly.

"Oh," the grandma answered, "you must be very worried about her."

"Gran, don't bother her. She probably wants some time alone," A male voice said.

"Oh, nonesense, Charles. I'm only making conversation," The older woman replied.

Helga, feeling awkward talking to a yellow curtain, quietly walked around to the other side of the room.

"Ah, there she is," The elderly woman said, eyes crinkling as she smiled, "What's your name, dear?"

"Helga," She answered respectfully.

"Oh, what a strong name. My name is Ruth," a wrinkled finger pointed to the teenage boy next to the bed, "and that's my grandson Charles."

Extending a hand out to shake each's hand, Helga offered a smile. The boy did look a bit hesitant but shook her hand anyway, offering her a smile back.

"Charlie's fine," He said, shooting her a boyish grin.

"Cool," Helga answered, retrieving her hand, "I better head back. It was nice meeting you, though."

The two waved her goodbye as she disappeared behind the cloth barrier. Seeing Lila one last time, she picked up her bag and left the room. As she walked down the halls, she spotted a vending machine. She decided to get a coffee to warm herself up before she walked out into the snow again.

As she was about to get her cup, she felt a presence behind her. Turning, she saw that it was Charlie.

"Oh, hi," Helga greeted awkwardly.

Charlie smiled, "Gran wanted some hot cocoa."

"Oh, okay. Well, bye," She answered before turning her heel to walk away. Charlie merely waved again, chuckling at her misplaced discomfort.

Helga always hated interacting with new people. When it was for work, sure, but if it was just for her own personal benefit, she'd rather turn into a slug. Shaking her head, she exited the hospital and made her way home. Shaking all thoughts away from her mind, she focused on her task of getting home.

That Charlie guy wasn't even that cute.

* * *

After a few hours of staying at Sid's house chatting, the boys decided to drag Sid out to have some fun, and to distract him from his court hearing on Wednesday. The truck driver's company decided to sue, and Sid just turned into more of a mess. The boy had been stubborn and refused to shower, but a stern talking to by his mother made him get up from his uncleaned sheets.

They took him to the movies. Mad Mars Revenge XXI was out, and the boys thought it would lift up their friend's spirit. The movie ended up being great, but Sid couldn't get it to feel better. The boys then decided to take him to the arcade where they knew Sid would want to play his favorite machine, Space Ranger Pinball. To their dismay, he barely touched the machine before he walked out the building to go home.

After stopping him from doing so, they took him to Slausen's to get something to eat, but he didn't really feel like it either so he didn't touch any of his food. Again, Arnold and Gerald were left to deal with the depressing teenager.

"Come on, Sid. Cheer up," Gerald groaned.

"Can you just take me home, guys? I'm really not feeling it," The boy in question replied.

Arnold sighed, "Can you at least try? We want you to get out of this slump. Do you wanna go see Li-"

"No!" Sid exclaimed, eyes wide in alertness.

"Okay, okay. Calm down," Gerald appeased.

"Sorry. I... I just don't think I can handle it seeing her in that state."

"Well, what should we do?" Arnold asked hopelessly.

"Can you just take me home, please?" Sid mumbled.

Sharing a look with Gerald, Arnold finally agreed to the boy's request. The trio exited the store. They took Gerald's car to take Sid home reluctantly. The two best friends sadly watched their friend enter his house.

"Man, is it gonna be like this from now on?" Gerald asked.

"I hope not," Arnold sighed, "I think he just needs some time to calm down from everything."

"I don't think he's ever gonna recover from this," Gerald replied, shaking his head.

"Just... hope. It'll be okay. It's always okay," Arnold tried to reason, "I mean, we've always been okay, right?"

"I don't know, man, but Lila needs to wake up- that's for sure," Gerald said as he shook his head.

"I hope she does."

* * *

Helga regretted every single decision she made since she left the hospital. Since she left the hospital, she had made one decision: to turn left into Maple Street instead of Palm Street. Why might this be a problem? Well, on Palm Street, one can turn left and reach Oak Street where her house was located. On Maple Street, one can turn right and cut through an alley to reach Vine Street. The same Vine Street where Sunset Arms was located.

Helga shook her head disappointedly at herself. It was a lie she had only made one decision. She made two. The other was not turning around and going home like any other sane person would. She could practically see herself already, pathetically standing in Arnold's fire escape when he very well could be still out with the guys. She heard they were gonna try and cheer Sid up.

She was mad and flustered and excited all at once. She was mad because Arnold hadn't thought of coming to her game, even just for a second just to say hi. But then again, it wasn't like they were dating or anything, so it wasn't like he had an obligation to. She was flustered because of her encounter with a not-handsome boy at the hospital that made her feel like she had somehow betrayed Arnold by have a not-clever banter with someone that was not-Arnold. Of course, that was unreasonable, too. She was excited because the thought of seeing Arnold after her enlightenment made her feel like a pile of goo. She just wanted to be around him as much as she could.

Without realizing it, she had reached the prophesied ladder to her beloved's room. Heart pounding, she began to climb, feeling the extremely cold metal in her mittened hands. She was bitterly amused as the memory of the last time she was in the fire escape. She had been sleepwalking, and she had asked Phoebe to stop her from doing anything to come into contact with Arnold. As she came face-to-face with the window, she raised her fist up to knock on the glass, but froze just as her hand reached the surface. What was she doing here again?

She didn't have enough time to answer her own question because the window had opened, revealing a very surprised Arnold.

"Helga?" He asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I- uh- I-I'm doing a census?" She squeaked, her heart pounding to outside her chest.

"What?" He laughed. God, his laugh was just _great_.

"I mean- damn, Football Head, you won't even invite me in? It's freezing out here!" She diverged awkwardly.

Arnold shrugged and step aside so she could climb into his room. She stepped in one foot at a time, relishing the heated room. Taking a deep breath, she dropped her bad and coat on the floor next to the window and threw herself on the couch. She had always thought that his room was cool.

"So, what brings you here?" Arnold asked, shutting the window.

"What? You don't want me here? I'll just leave then," Helga said, playfully getting up to pick up her things. Arnold laughed and grabbed her arms, placing her back to her spot on the couch.

"No, that's not what I meant," He groaned jokingly, "but, seriously. Why are you here?"

Her heart started palpitating really fast. "I... I just wanted to see you," She answered quietly, looking away from him.

The boy seemed to take delight in her response, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Sorry, what was that?" He teased.

"I said that I just wanted to see you, okay?" She blurted out loudly, heat spreading all over her face. Arnold looked like a kid at the candy store.

"Wow. I never thought I'd see the day," He chimed, "when Helga G. Pataki would want to see _me._ What an honor!"

"Hey, I bet you never thought you'd see the day when your testicles get chopped off, but it'll happen soon if you don't shut up," Helga threatened with her blush intensifying with each word he said.

"Mhm. Whatever you say, Helga," He answered, sitting on his bed, "But, why did you want to see me? Did I do something bad again?"

"Again? What do you mean ag- you know what? Forget it," She declared, getting up from her position as she realized the outrageousness of her situation, "I gotta go. Bye."

"Hey! Wait, wait, wait," He said urgently as he blocked her path to the fire escape, "It's not everyday that Helga Pataki wants to see a lowly human such as myself. Please, stay."

"Okay," She answered after giving in some thought, returning to her spot.

Arnold shook his head, elated at her presence. "What did you wanna do?"

"I just wanted to hang out," She answered, avoiding his gaze as she looked up at his skylight.

"Okay. Let's hang out," He replied, sitting on his swirly chair and moving in front of her.

She peeked slyly to his direction without moving her head to his direction and saw that he was staring at her with a smile. She turned red in embarrassment, positioning her eyes back straight up. Coughing, she pretended that her heart was beating normally.

"Uh, how was your day?" She asked, not really thinking of anything else to say.

"Great. Had a little bit of trouble getting Sid to cheer up, but it was pretty good," He answered, smile not leaving his face, "How was yours?"

"Um, it was okay," She answered pathetically, "we lost the basketball game."

Arnold was quiet for a few seconds before he released a breath. "Shit, the basketball game. I'm sorry. I was gonna go but with Sid and all-" He tried to explain, all trace of playfullness escaping his tone.

"It's okay. It's better that you didn't come. I sucked really bad. I would've been too embarrassed," She lied, shrugging it off.

"Well, even so. I should've seen you," He answered.

"It's okay," She responded, feeling bad that he was feeling bad.

"Let me make it up to you," He said, getting up from his chair, "Do you wanna grab something to eat?"

"Nah..." She responded, "I just wanna... chill."

"Okay, we can do that," He replied, sitting on the end of the couch with her feet, mimicking her actions where they both stared up at the skylight. The stars were strangely visible.

"I went to see Lila today," Helga stated as she propped her legs up on Arnold's lap.

"Oh? How was it?" He hummed, laying his arms on her long limbs.

"It was nice. She was in a room with a nice grandma," She responded.

"Mm."

"Her name's Ruth."

"Mm."

"She has a grandson, about our age." This statement caught Arnold's attention.

"Really?"

"Yeah. His name's Charlie. He seemed nice."

"I can be nice, too," He muttered jealously. Who was this Charlie guy anyway? And what did he do that was so "nice"?

Helga laughed at the boy's response and sat up from her position. She pinched his cheek. "I know. You're basically the Mother Teresa of Hillwood."

"Ow- is that a bad thing?" He groaned, rubbing his cheek as she let go.

"Hm," She thought, "no. I guess not."

"What else did you do?" He asked, drawing circles on her ankles with his finger.

"I tried to go home, but I decided to come here instead," She answered, looking down from the ceiling to the boy.

"Why was that again?" He teased. She playfully punched his shoulder. They simmered into silence, enjoying each other's company with Arnold drawing circles on her leg with his finger and her watching the dark sky above them. She couldn't see any stars.

"Tell me about your dreams," Arnold said.

"I want to live in Marseille in a studio apartment that's way too expensive with a white cat named Benvolio," She answered, smiling at him, "I wanna spend a year writing about stuff and painting."

"Marseille? Like Versaille? Like the one creepy French king built or whatever?"

"No," She laughed, "Marseille is a city in France."

"Oh," He responded, feeling stupid, "Why not Paris?"

"Bleh, Paris is for basic people. Plus, there's too many people over there and it's really expensive. Marseille is the perfect size for the price."

Arnold hummed in response. "Why would you name the cat Benvolio?"

"It's from Romeo and Juliet," She answered, "I just think the name sounds funny, like _olio-lio-lio-lio._ It's hilarious."

"Without a doubt," He replied amusedly.

"I dunno. I just wanna live in a small apartment with a big window and some red peonies on the windowsill," She gushed, "I'll have an easel by the window and paintings all over the walls, and Benvolio will be walking around the apartment lazily."

"And a sexy blond guy sitting next to you?" Arnold teased.

"Oh, hush," Helga laughed, "What about you? What does the mighty Arnold Shortman want to do with his life?"

"I want to be a sexy blond man next to you," He joked.

Helga punched his shoulder. "Be serious."

"Okay, okay," he laughed. "I want to go back to San Lorenzo," He said seriously.

This caught her attention. It struck a chord in her that wasn't necessarily the most pleasant. She looked down from the skylight and gave him a strange look. He caught her gaze and quickly retracted his statement. "Oh, no, no, no. That's not what I mean at all."

"Well, what do you mean?" She asked.

"You see, the people over there aren't necessarily the most progressed," He answered, "A lot of them still live impoverished because of gangs and corrupt government officials. People are starving."

"That's so sad."

"I know. The worst part? They're _happy_ about it," He ranted, "They haven't even experienced a life without suffering to compare their situation to," Shaking his head, he added, "I wanna go back when I'm older to teach them about some things and help them out."

"Mother Teresa, I tell you," She joked.

"Hey," He replied, narrowing his eyes jokingly.

"I'm just messing with you," She laughed, "That's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. That's a great dream, Football Head."

"Doesn't make yours any less attractive," He answered, "Benvolio-lio-lio is going to be a very lucky cat to have an owner as amazing as you."

"Your just saying that to get in my pants," She flirted jokingly.

"Well, you do look _really good_ in your pants. You think I'll look good in them, too?" He countered, playfully eyeing her up and down.

"Oh my goodness," She said, laughing boisterously at the banter.

Helga stared into his eyes gleefully. They hadn't torn away, and they just sat there, staring at each other. It was honestly kind of weird. But it was a good weird. A warm, fuzzy kind of weird. She hadn't realized how his eyes had a blue in them all around the green. She also hadn't realized that his eyelashes were so long. It made her kind of jealous. She wished she could have lashes that long.

She felt him cup her cheek, and almost automatically, her eyes fluttered shut. Her heart started pounding. She could hear the blood pulsing in her eardrums. She felt his presence grown closer and closer to her face. She could smell his cologne. She could feel the warmth of his breath. She felt herself gravitate towards him like a magnet, placing her hand on his thigh. She felt like she was in a magical trance that forced her to feel such affection for the boy.

She could almost taste-

"Arnold, it's time for-Oh my!" A voice interrupted. The teens practically flew away from each other.

"Mom!" Arnold exclaimed.

"I didn't know you... had a guest, dear," Stella laughed awkwardly.

"Uh, Mom, this is Helga. She's one of my friends from way back," He explained urgently.

"Hi, Mrs. Shortman," Helga squeaked, awkwardly waving at the older woman.

"Well, Helga, it's nice to meet you," Stella laughed in amusement at their flustering, "You're welcome to stay for dinner if you'd like."

"That would be great. Thank you," Helga answered, her face red in complete embarrassment.

"Okay," The mother chimed teasingly as she exited the room, "Don't take too long, you two."

An awkward pause followed. Both the teens had their hearts palpitating faster than a cheetah's run. Helga buried her face in her hands, refusing to look at him. She turned away from the boy.

"We should... probably head downstairs," She said as she moved away from him, breaking the silence.

"Yeah..." Arnold answered, scratching his neck.

As Helga walked towards the door, she felt a hand grabbed her shoulder and spin her around. She almost fell, but she was able to stabilize herself as she felt the hard wall of his chest against her.

"But I gotta do something first."

Arnold slammed his lips onto hers.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HANUKAH/HAPPY KWANZAA/HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

This is my gift to you: their very first kiss as teenagers (and an exceptionally long chapter). Hope you liked it! I hope you guys did great on your Mid-terms (for those who have them), and are now having a great break.

Recently, my inner hopeless romantic has been popping up. I realized that love is great. Love is amazing. I love love. I don't even have a boyfriend hahahaha. It's just that the thought that something like that exists in the world makes me happy. Love is great. I just feel bad for the people who've been taken advantage of because of something so amazing.

I do have a question though. Do you guys think the chapters are too long? I feel like they get kind of boring because of how long they are. Idk. I might shorten them as I go on, but tell me what you think.

I was reading a story, and I came across the most relateable thing ever: she refreshes her e-mail every ten minutes in hopes to find a new review lmaoooo. Me for dayzz.

Anyway, leave a review, like, and fave! I'll see y'alls next week.

-G


	8. Chapter Eight

**Little Known Ways to Satisfaction - Chapter Eight**

 _"We have to get the Corazon back to the temple to stop all of this," Arnold declared._

 _"Newsflash, Football Head: the temple is surrounded by lava!" Helga exasperated._

 _"There must be some way..." He groaned, looking atound for a sign of hope. The mountain was mostly bare, and the small amount of resources they could use was evaporating or melting as the molten rock approached._

 _Suddenly, a loud flapping noise echoed above their heads. It was a helicopter. A rope ladder rolled out the door with a figure holding onto it. It was Eduardo._

 _"Need some help, kids?" He asked._

 _"Eduardo!"_

* * *

"This tastes really great, Mrs. Shortman," Helga complimented politely as she served herself a spoonful of couscous. Everyone at the boarding house were sat around the dining table. The boarders were chatting amongst themselves, Grandma was in a cowboy outfit as she twirled a lasso in the air to trap Oskar, Miles was scarfing down his wife's food, Stella was serving them, and Phil was squinting his eyes at Helga. It was strane.

"Thank you, Helga," The older woman thanked as she sat down at the table, "A Magrhebi village woman taught me how to make it when Miles and I were on a mission years ago. Very nice woman. Her name was Peli."

"Oh, I remember when you two left for that trip!" Phil exclaimed, tearing his eyes away from the girl, "That was the year when Pookie and I tried to kick Oskar out because he stole my pigs in the blanket."

"Oh, Grandpa, that was such a long time ago. We should let the past go, yeah?" Oskar groaned.

"Oskar," Suzie shushed as she fed her baby.

"I am not surprised you were a pain in the neck since before, Kokoshka!" Ernie bellowed.

"Ernie, don't be rude," His wife chastised.

"Yes, dear," said the blocky man almost instantly.

"Bah! What a wuss!" Mr. Hyunh laughed.

"Oh, Eleanor, it's been so long since I last saw you," Gertie greeted, ignoring the dynamic as she fixed her Native-American headpiece, "How is Teddy doing?"

"He's doing just great," Helga laughed.

"So," Miles started, "tell us about yourself, Helga."

Helga shot Arnold an uneasy look to which the boy replied by holding her hand underneath the table. De javu?

"Well," The blonde answered, "I've known Arnold for all my life. I actually used to bully him a lot when we were younger."

"Oh, yes! I remember now. You were the girl with the one eyebrow that put glue on Arnold's chair and threw feathers on him! Hoho, wowee," Phil cackled joyously.

"Haha... yeah," Helga responded sheepishly.

"Really?" Miles asked, concealing his own laughter.

"I don't put glue on him anymore if you're worried," Helga said, quite embarrassed of her previous actions.

"Yeah, she just makes fun of me now," Arnold joked.

"Hey, I do not," Helga retorted, sticking a tongue out.

"I know you!" Mr. Hyunh chotled, "You were the one that brought my Mai to me that Christmas. She told me of the girl with the one eyebrow who found her. I thank you so much!"

"What? Seriously?" Arnold asked, surprised at what the older man had just revealed. Helga, too, was surprised that Mai had even mentioned her since it was many years ago.

"Well, it was the Christmas that you were trying to find Mai for Mr. Hyunh," She explained, "and I wanted to get you a present, so I sorta-kinda-maybe followed you around and helped you out a little."

"That's amazing, Helga," Stella said.

"Uhuh, I agree," Miles piped up from his meal.

"We're gonna have a talk later," Arnold whispered to her. Helga gulped down a lump in her throat.

The family spent a few more minutes conversing and eating normally. Helga couldn't help but feel strange watching the averageness of the whole situation. No one was yelling. No one was drunk. No one was fighting. It was a refreshing change that she wished she could take home with her. She felt jealous of Arnold for being able to come home to something as homey as this.

After dinner, the two went back upstairs to Arnold's room.

"Your parents seem really nice-" Helga was interrupted midsentence by Arnold's arms pulling her closely to his chest. He planted a butterfly kiss on her forehead. She was taken by surprise at the sudden attack and remained still as she pondered why he was acting this way.

"What's up with you?" She asked as she felt his hand on the small of her back.

"You are the most amazing person I've ever met in my entire life," He said, resting his forehead on hers, staring into her eyes. She felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment.

"Why? What did I do?" She asked shyly, averting her eyes away from him.

"Everything. You did everything. Thank you," He whispered, "It's kinda weird how I hated you so much when we were kids because I thought you made my life miserable when you really made it so much better."

"Well, I can't really blame you for it. I was kind of an asshole as a child," She joked in a hushed tone.

At this, he chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you kind of were, but you were the nicest asshole around."

"You're so weird," Helga laughed, "Let's go watch some Netflix. I've got about two hours before Olga files a missing person report."

* * *

"Helga, order's up!"

It was the average Saturday bustle, and Helga wished nothing more than to be dead. Even though she and Arnold had an extravagant rendezvous the night before (consisting of cuddling on his couch as they watched The Office), Helga was back to the mundanity of her life. Handing menus, getting orders, delivering orders— she was just having the time of her life.

"Miss, my-"

"Helga, the-"

"I asked for diet-"

"My sandwich has a hair-"

"Excu-"

Helga ran away from the patrons to the backroom. Literally ran away. She closed the door to the breakroom and took a deep breath. She was so close to a mental breakdown and if she had stayed one more second, she would've exploded. Angry Helga hasn't made an appearance in a while, but she was still very much existent.

Whipping out her phone, she checked the time. Ten more minutes and she's free to go. Taking another deep breath, she exited the breakroom with a big fake smile, resuming service like a happy little elf.

* * *

Arnold was happy. He was so happy. If he could describe himself in three words it would be happy, happy, and happy.

As he marched downstairs, he felt a skip in his step. This didn't go unnoticed by the inhabitants lounging in the livingroom, but they inferred that it most likely had to do with the girl they had over the night before.

"Hey, Arnold," Ernie teased, "I bet you had a pretty swell night with your girlfriend, eh?"

"Uh," Arnold blushed, "She's not really my girlfriend yet."

"Oh, really now?" Phil roared, "I wonder why she was climbing up our fire escape yesterday then?"

"Is that how she got in? I wondered how since I never saw her come in through the front door," Stella said, pondering.

"Guys," Arnold groaned.

"Oh, come on, Arnold. We're just teasin'," Ernie laughed.

"I'm going to see Lila, okay? I'll be back before dinner," Arnold called as he exited the front door.

"Okay, honey. Tell her dad we say hi," Stella answered.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Arnold felt the coldness of the outside sink in as he opened the door. It had snowed a lot the previous night, and the forecast said that the week will see a lot more. It was going to suck especially because it was finals week. Arnold was going to need to cram.

As he passed the many stores along the street, Arnold was reminded that Christmas was coming up. He should have started Christmas shopping already. He started to list off some things that he could get his family. A bellywarmer for Grandpa, some aviator goggles for Grandma, a crock pot for Stella, a notebook for Miles... The list went on as he started to think of presents he could give the boarders.

Eventually, his thoughts led him to Helga. She was like an enigmatic roulette to be played. Sometimes, she made him feel invincible - like they, together, were unstoppable; but sometimes, she was so distant with him that it would scare him into thinking that he had done something wrong. It was like walking on eggshells. He just didn't know which Helga was gonna pop up at any given time, but he was determined to figure her out.

Regardless, he supposed she _was_ kind of-sort of-maybe-hopefully his girlfriend now (again). What could he get her? It's their first Christmas together since he got back, and he wanted it to be perfect. He couldn't really get her anything expensive since he was broke, but what could he get her?

Before he realized it, he reached the same, sanitary building he had grown to despise. Why was he here again? Oh, yes. Lila. He felt guilty for feeling happy during a time when he should be depressed over his friend.

He entered the hospital and then her room. Her dad wasn't around; probably working. A grandma was on the other side of the curtain, flipping through channels. She smiled at him as he entered to which he politely smiled back with a nod.

"Boy, this girl must be very popular," the grandma said, "You're the fourth visitor today."

"I guess so," Arnold replied, "She's really nice to everyone. It kinda shook our school when she got in the accident."

"Shame. Her name is Lila, right?" The older woman asked.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I've spoken to her father a few times when he was here. Poor thing goes back and forth from work to here everyday," she made a tsk sound, "A parent should never have to experience something as bad as this."

Arnold hummed in agreement.

"You know, you remind me a lot of my grandson, Charlie," she reminisced, "I bet you'd be good friends. He doesn't have to, but he chooses to come here to spend time with me during his free time."

Ah, nice Charlie. He knew about nice Charlie. Arnold disliked nice Charlie.

"I'm sure I'd like to meet him, Ma'am," Arnold answered courteously.

"Oh, enough with this 'Ma'am' business. My name is Ruth. Call me Ruth," She responded.

"Okay, Ruth," Arnold said, testing her name, "My name is Arnold."

"I knew an Arnold once. Back in 1925," She trailed, "but it's okay. I won't bore you with a long story," she chuckled, "I'll leave you alone to talk with Lila."

"Thank you, Ruth," Arnold thanked.

He settled down next to Lila's bed. God, he hated seeing her like this. A feeling of sadness washed over his chest. Grabbing her warm hand, he prayed to himself silently for her recovery. The longer she was in this state, the more he thought about all the things she was missing out on. She was missing out on school days. She was missing out on lunches with her friends. She was missing out on the play she'd been casted as a lead in. She was missing out on life, and he wished she would wake up so she could catch up.

Lila looked like she was sleeping. Most of her minor bruising had faded, and some of her wounds have started to scar, but her state of not-okay was still as prominent as the sun shone in the sky. She still had bandages all over her body, and the cast around her hips stuck out on the blankets.

" _Lila,_ " he thought, " _you need to wake up. You really, really need to wake up_."

* * *

"Bye, Boris," Helga yelled as she left the premises of her workplace.

She made her way through the streets of Hillwood. It was still fairly early so the sun was still out. She started to walk quickly. She wanted to get out of the cold as soon as she could. As she passed a blur of store windows and people, a rectangular object caught her eye in a window, displayed with a wreath and other holiday adornments. Her heart started pounding as she approached the window.

It was her book. It had been in the printing press for months now. Her editor had told her that it wouldn't be out into the stores for at least a few more weeks, and yet here it was, glaring at her. It felt like the object was almost making fun of her for her ignorance.

Quickly entering the store, she approached the table that was full of her books, labeled "Hot and New" hanging above on a sign. She grabbed a book and marveled at its existence. She almost cried. It was leather-bound, just like she told her editor she wanted, and had neat letters printed on the cover, reading "Trivial Pursuit" and her penname on the bottom. She flipped through the pages an saw that, truly, her work was there in actual book form.

"Are you a fan, young lady?" She heard an old voice croak. Turning around, she saw that an elderly shopkeeper was smiling at her. She always liked old people. They were adorable. This one had on a flannel with a bright green vest on top of it. "This book has been selling very well among the young'ings since it came out a few weeks ago."

Her heart soared at the revelation. "Really?"

The shopkeeper nodded and reached for the book himself. "I read it myself, too. It was very good. Whoever wrote this had quite the experience."

Feeling her cheeks flush, Helga embarrassedly stared down at the book in an attempt to hide her face. "What's it about?" She didnt know why she asked the man such a stupid question. She knew very well what it was about, but she wanted to see if her message actually came across.

"Hm... I think that Marion, the main character, had quite a strange fixation on a boy. Peter, I think his name was," The shopkeeper took a book and opened it to a page, "See right here it says that they met when he helped her from being bullied when they were younger."

Helga made a humming noise to conceal her embarrassment.

"Shall I spoil it for you? I always hate it when someone spoils stories for me," The old man asked.

"No, no. It's alright. I was planning on buying this for my sister," Helga lied.

"Alright," the old man said, "Well, after Peter helped her out that one time, she became quite attached, but she treated him poorly. I guess it's just how children function," he chuckled, "I remember doing the same thing to my wife when we were children."

Helga politely listened, the initial shock of _someone actually read it_ wearing off. "That sounds sweet."

"Oh, yes," he chimed, "She was the love of my life the same way she was the bane of my existence," he laughed, "Anywho, back to the story. Marion was very mean to him, but still very much loved him. Perhaps a little too much, but I suppose love never hurt anyone."

Helga gulped down a lump in her throat. "How did you feel about it?"

"Hm, I liked it very much. I think the author," he squinted at her penname on the bottom, "Ms. Verona, went through quite the childhood."

She couldn't help but crack a smile. She took the book in her hands and squeezed it tightly. "I'd like to purchase this, please."

"Oh, you're in for a ride," the old man said, ushering her over to the cash register. She paid for the book and thanked the elder man, leaving the store with a paper bag with her book in it.

The elderly shopkeeper opened to the very back page to confirm a sneaking suspicion at the back of his head and chuckled to himself as he saw the author information page, a picture displayed in a small square of the writer.

"Who was that dear?" A woman's voice asked as she emerged from a closet.

"Juliet Verona," he laughed.

* * *

As Arnold walked through the snow, he looked around the stores to spot something anything, that he could get for Helga. He had a problem. See, he wanted to get her something nice, but he was also very broke. Every nice thing he saw was too expensive. He had been walking around aimlessly for hours now, and he was starting to get frustrated.

Just as he was about to give up, he spotted a bookstore. Helga like books didn't she? Maybe he'll find something about poetry or something like that. He entered the store and looked around.

"Can I help you, young man?" He heard an older man ask from the cash register.

"Oh, I'm just browising," Arnold answered politely, "Just doin' some Christmas shopping."

The older man lowered his glasses to take a better look at the customer entering his store. He approached Arnold, placing the snow globe he had been tinkering with on a shelf. "Mom? Dad? Girlfriend?"

"My girlfriend, I guess," Arnold said, feeling flustered at saying the term outloud to someone else for the first time, "she likes to read."

"Might I suggest this book?" The older man took a copy of the green book piled on the table, "It's been very popular among young people since it came out."

Arnold took the copy and eyed it. It was very cute. He looked at the author's name and cringed slightly at the cheesiness, but he supposed that it didn't really matter. "What's it about?"

"You know, a girl came in here earlier and asked the same thing," the old man croaked, "why can't young people just read the summary?" He shook his head.

"Good idea," Arnold laughed slightly. He opened the book to the front and brisked through the summary.

 _She was in love with him. She hated him. He was a nice boy. He liked her._

 _Up and coming Juliet Verona tells the tale of an unlikely relationship between a kind boy and an angry girl going through life from the innocence of childhood to the confusion of adolescence to the maturity of adulthood_.

"It doesn't really tell me very much," Arnold said, not quite understanding what the book is really about.

Sighing, the old man picked up a copy of the book and read the summary, realizing that it had been very general. "Alright, I'll tell you all about it."

Arnold lowered the book and listened attentively to the man.

"The story is about a young girl named Marion. She came from a pretty dysfunctional background. Her father had left her when she was young and her mother was an alcoholic. The child was basically left to fend for herself."

"That's sad," Arnold said. The old man shot an impatient look at him.

"You want me to finish or not? I'm getting quite tired explaining this book to people all day."

"Sorry," Arnold chuckled.

"Anyway, this boy named Peter; he was the first person to have ever treated her nicely, so she started to have a fixation on him. She would be very mean when they were children, and a little bit when they were teenagers," the old man described, "you see, she didn't know how to properly show affection to other people, so she just did everything she could to get his attention."

Arnold felt familiar with the situation and couldn't help himself but smile at the book. "How does it end?"

"They go their separate ways," the old man said. Arnold felt disappointed. "They were only kids when they fell in love. I think that the author was going through a tough time with her own love affairs when she wrote this. The separation felt very real."

"That's too bad. My girlfriend and I sorta went through the same thing, but I don't want her to get any ideas," he joked.

"It's still a very good read. You can tell from the way she wrote her story that Ms. Verona very much felt in love and lost."

Arnold hummed, thinking about it. "Is it really a good story?"

"Would I tell you it was if it wasn't?" The old man asked flatly.

"I guess not," Arnold smiled, "okay, I'll buy it."

"Good decision."

* * *

"Hey, Helga. How was work?"

"It was fine, Olga," Helga answered, kicking off her shoes.

"Come in the kitchen for some food!"

Hanging her coat up on the rack, she followed the scent of cinnamon and caramelizing fruit all the way to the kitchen. She secured the book in her hands, giddy and excited to show her sister what she had just bought. Setting it down on the table, she waited for Olga to turn around.

"Look, Olga," Helga said excitedly. The older girl turned with a smile on her face.

"What's this?"

"It's my book!" Helga answered giddily.

"What seriously-Ow!" Olga exclaimed, flinching away from the hot pan she was holding.

"Look, everything's here," Helga babbled, flipping through the book excitedly.

"I wanna see it!" Olga said, setting down the pot and taking off her apron. Helga handed her the book. Olga touched the cover and spun the rectangular object around in her hands, marveling in its existence. "It's amazing! Oh, I'm so proud of you, Baby Sister!" Olga pulled her sister into a tight embrace, kissing the younger girl's temple.

"Thanks," Helga smiled.

"I'm gonna read it all tonight!" Olga declared.

Helga couldn't help but share her sister's excitement. The two girls went on to chat about how the book ended up getting published and the steps it took to get there. Eventually, they reached the topic Helga dreaded to talk about: the conception of the story.

"So, what's the story about?" Olga asked, her eyes gleaming in interest.

"Oh, uh, it's about a guy," Helga stumbled, "and a girl."

"Oh, come on, Helga. You gotta give me more than that."

"Okay, well..." Helga trailed, explaining the story to Olga in the least conspicuous way she could, "...and then she goes off to the Amazon to explore the jungle, and he goes to Paris to paint for the Galerie du Anya."

"Wow," Olga said, "how'd you come up with it?"

"It was, uh, I just watched the, uh, internet," The younger girl blabbed.

"Really? 'Cause this sounds awfully like how you and Arn-"

"What? No. That's ridiculous," Helga denied.

Olga smiled at her sister's flustered denial. "Okay, then. Let me digress. How are you and Arnold doing? I still feel kind of embarrassed about what happened the other night over dinner."

"He's okay," Helga responded, blushing madly at the memory of their late night rendezvous the night before. She still wasn't completely comfortable talking to Olga about such things.

"Oh, come on," Olga teased, "you look as red as a tomato. Surely, some of it was inspired by him. It's not everyday that someone goes to the Amazon Jungle, of all places."

"I- I- Lila's doing well," Helga blurted in an attempt to change the subject. Olga eyed her teasingly, but gave in to her sister's decision to not talk about her love life. Helga will come around sooner or later.

"Yes, I came by to see her today," Olga said sadly, "my poor lil' sis."

"I know. It sucks," Helga sighed.

"How do you feel about it?" Olga asked.

"It's hard," She said, "I mean, I was so... I didn't care about her as much as I should have when she was okay. She was always there for me, and I guess she was one of my best friends. But, life goes on, and it sucks that hers is on pause."

"I hope she'll be okay," Olga recanted, "the doctor said she was recovering nicely."

"She should. Her dad can't afford to keep her in there anymore."

"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten about their situation..." Olga tsked, "maybe we can help them out."

"How?"

Olga thought for a moment.

"I know just the thing and just the person to ask for help."

* * *

Arnold should be studying. He should be looking over his notes and studying for the midterms he was going to have all week starting Monday. He should be mentally preparing himself. Instead, he found himself completely engrossed in the book he was supposed to give Helga. It was so interesting - so familiar - that he just couldn't find it in himself to put it down.

The characters remind him so much of people in Hillwood. A girl named Claire was so overbearing that she reminded him of Rhonda. A boy named Arthur was so clumsy that he reminded Arnold of Eugene. A wise, overly-kind teacher reminded him of Mr. Simmons. The story related so much to his life that he couldn't put it down. Reading the book was like reading his life from another person's perspective. Many of the scenarios reminded him of the many adventures he had had as a child.

When he brought the book to the table, it worried his family. Arnold wasn't the type to read for fun. He barely read for school. They just assumed that he was doing it as some form of revision for his finals and left him alone. He carried the book all the way back up to his room, never once putting it down. He wouldn't even leave it when he had to go to the bathroom.

He got to a point in the story where Peter, one of the deuteragonists, was finally admitting his feelings to Marion, the other main character, after years of denial. They were in the middle of a flood, the community desperately trying to evacuate the city before the flood entered their homes. At that point, they were teenagers, and Peter was about to move away when a huge storm suddenly came to their city. The two teens in the story were trapped inside Marion's attic after Peter rushed in to save her after finding out she had been trapped in her room.

 _"Marion," Peter whispered as he draped his thick, wet coat around her shoulders, "I have something to tell you."_

 _Marion turned away from him, shivering and knowing what exactly he was about to say. "Don't."_

 _"But, I love you."_

 _"Why now?" She asked, averting her eyes away from his. He let his hands hover over her shoulders before pulling her into a tight embrace._

 _"Because I don't know if this is the last time I'll ever see you again," He answered._

Tears. Arnold felt like a wuss. If the guys could see him now, they would call him a pussy. A major pussy. That was what the book had reduced him to. But, he kept insisting in his mind that it wasn't his fault. Wasn't that was basically happened in the jungle? It struck too close to home.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knocking on his door. He quickly wiped whatever tears he had in his eyes and closed the book, leaving a bookmark to the page where he stopped. He was already halfway through the book.

"How's studying, Kimba?" Grandma asked, entering the room with a tray of cookies and milk.

"Uh, great, Grandma. Thanks," He answered, taking the tray from his arthritic grandmother. The elder woman waved him off and set it down herself on his desk.

"C'mon, Arnold, I'm not that old yet," Pookie waved off.

"Grandma, you're eighty-seven. You shouldn't be tiring yourself out like this. I can get it myself," Arnold reasoned.

"Oh, hush," She shushed, exiting the room, "Study hard and bring home the buffalo, dear."

"Okay," Arnold chuckled.

He then turned to resume his reading but felt guilty. He should study. Sighing, he decided that he could read any time anyway. He walked towards his book and begrudgingly opened his textbook. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Hi hi. Sorry it's a little bit shorter this week. I love your guys' response to my question last week, and I'm so happy that you guys think I should keep the longer chapters, but I decided to test out making them shorter. I realized that I've been writing for quantity rather than quality, and I'm really ashamed of it. So, I'll slowly be writing shorter and shorter chapters (but not to where it's like a two-minute read or something. I'll keep it above 3000 words). With shorter chapters, I can focus on making the experience better rather than just telling some blah story, yknow. I hope yalls can understand.

Leave a thought, a like, and a fave!

-G


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